on the other side of the train platform, she senses it before she sees it. a trickle-in of darkness. the enemy of all that is good and holy. a chill that makes all the hairs on her body stand at attention. once the freight between them passes, she sees no monster, but a man.
green eyes that bore into her own, even through her shallow guise of inconspicuousness. a gaze that was at immediate odds with her body. her blood, the draconian --- an aversion so innate it dared to rip from her body. even in this momentary wordless interaction, she knew he recognized her. even beneath her hood, does her blood scald and taint the air. no disguise could stop a dark hand. were it be wrath or redemption --- lunafreya hadn't the time, nor the constitution to entertain it.
ravus left only for a moment, securing their tickets to the port. leviathan called to her, another inexorable pull. she was alone. vulnerable.
as of late, she had a weak stomach. her complexion pallid. she could feel her organs shutting down ---- a drawback of this fragile mortal shell. still, she had to save noctis she had to .... survive.
the next moments move in slow motion. as her hand comes to cover her mouth, she bolts down the steel staircase.
her own footsteps seem to duplicate, bounding behind her, words she couldn't understand. she can't. she can't expel anymore. she can't ---- live. she wont live.
the ring of the lucii in her breast pocket. a weight as heavy as time itself. dying here ---- whether it be from attackers or this failing body .... would mean failure. would mean the end of all life. would mean an eternity of darkness. if all of this was god's will .... why is she doomed to fail ? if she is to be a spot of purity in this decimated world, why is she doomed to die ? wasn't she human once, too ? was she not good enough to be saved as well ?
her heel snags on the catwalk, sending lunafreya sliding to the ground. without the strength to rise, she props herself up on her hands, turning to see her presumed assailant knelt next to her. instinctively, she grabs a fistful of his uniform to re-balance herself.
through wet lashes, she focuses on her hand. pushes past the scalding contact of diseased flesh. black, bunched fabric. gold hardware in her periphrial. " kingsglaive ... " it comes out hoarss, ends with a sputtering cough enough to risk her stability again. his hand holds her back. it burns again.
she doesn't want to look up. too afraid to see nyx. too afraid to be reminded of him. the added weight of guilt, her unsinkable sin of being inhuman.
her body feels aflame. malaise and pulled in every direction. the tears that fall go unnoticed by her psyche. she wanted to live. more than anything.
with each cough does her grip on him tighten. a pulsing singe felt between the both of them. the dark in his flesh craved hers. his impeded while hers receded. the faint ichor of his veins began to retreat where they were connected. " you're daemonifying ---- i can't help you. i can't. " / @meteorea
