❛ you say that like you’ve known how to do something other than watch death.
or cause death. or create death. ❜
make no mistake, those are her hands you hear shaking. that’s a tremor you hear in her voice. the sweet, sweet rumbling of a dulcet toned throat. weapons swing as useless as the arms that hand at her sides. strength gathers in a hollow chest, but has no where to go, for it breeds rash and reckless actions that have no place here. her fight is not gone, not squashed. it is present, in the spark in her eyes and twitch of her palm. fight will come, and it will pass.
she knows you. knows OF you and your plight. of the blood on your hands and in your hair and how it dusts your lashes. she knows of how you bathe in it and let it glove your hands in scarlet. you frighten her, with your white ash hair and scorched eyes and teeth as sharp as your tongue. she knows you and she despises you. and you intrigue her, the part of her determined to see good where it may have never been.
❛ have you?
…… have you? ❜