the folly of human nature.
PROMPT 3 (YEARNING) of my 30-day WoL challenge! @otolin-xiv​ and I have been chatting about our duel WoL verse for AGES, so I wanted to play off that a little for this. Aka, if I don’t capture him correctly at all, I’m so sorry. LMAO.
Two fingers rested on her face between the bridge of her nose and chin, a distant, contemplative expression laid bare as her single eye cast itself downwards to the open window of the Crystarium. There, among the periwinkle trees and slopes of elegant crystal, her caretaker strode across the neat-trimmed grass back to the Ocular; and she, ever foolish in her nature, followed him to the brink of her vision.
“It’s not too late to tell him that you know... if he doesn’t already, that is.”
Otolin was not a man of many words, and yet the ones he spoke always seemed to carry a certain weight. Whether that was because she swore he knew her better than she knew herself, or merely because he contemplated every line with careful consideration, it was enough for her gaze to shift from the window and to him; for her hand to lift from her mouth and towards her cheekbone where she used the back of her knuckles to prop her head. It was not the first time the two had participated in a heart to heart, but it was less about what he said as opposed to how he looked.
It was in the furrow of the brow, the downturn of his lip and how his words, when they were spoken, were carefully selected as to not spur her ire. Because that was the thing about Kor: she was very good at trying to push people away, and he was as used to stoking the fire as he was dousing it. His was the measured step in opposition to her haste -- the open posture as he watched her hunched physique and dry, humourless smile.
“If Ardbert is right about that mirror, I’m sure he already knows.”
“I... I don’t think he would use it for that purpose.”
No, he wouldn’t. Even Kor knew that, but it didn’t make her feel any better. As much as she tried to convince herself that G’raha the Exarch was somehow all knowing, her pessimism could not overrule sheer fact. He was doing his utmost best to conceal his identity and he was too good a man to spy on the two of them. Which was fortunate, as much as Kor didn’t want to admit it, because the yearning beneath her ire was transparent and pathetic.
And obvious. Very, very obvious. There was a reason she often saw Otolin’s gaze staring at her own whenever they were in the Exarch’s presence -- how he would allow her to lead the conversation, not in tandem as they often did, to gauge how much information she was willing to give. He was a good man, too; which was very annoying, as it meant Kor had to try and emulate it.
Sometimes.
“Like how you’ll admit your feelings in the Greatwood?”
She watched the flush of blood to the surface of dark skin and the way Otolin’s mouth twitched. Good, she thought, better to turn the tables on him then act like she was the only one at the mercy of her folly. It did not mean that he would not be the stronger ( of the emotional aspect, he so often was ), but in her moment of defence, she revelled in watching him squirm. Y’shtola would have no times for petty games and of that she so sincerely respected her.
--- Except when it was turned on her. She didn’t respect that. But, at least for the start, it would not be turned on her, and she could enjoy it.
“Now, see? You should wash the hypocrisy off your face, Otolin --- it’s not very flattering,” she said. and he’d see the cold wickedness reflected in the amber of her eye. His affront was obvious.
“You know... you know I’m right.”
Damn it. He was doubling down, the bastard.
Kor groaned, stretching her legs out suddenly over the bed as she let her hands rest either side of her legs. “Yes, I could, but you know what that would achieve? Nothing. Nothing, because there is obviously a reason why he’s not telling us, and it could very well be something a simple as not caring for us anymore.”
Otolin was silent. She didn’t really know if that was a good or a bad thing. Probably bad, considering his open stance still conveyed something akin to “You know that’s not the truth”, and she’d rather pretend G’raha was being malicious or uncaring so she could get over it.
Looking back out to the window, now that the Crystal Exarch was out of sight, the woman sighed and rubbed her cheek below the eye-patch. Her ruined eye always had a way of itching when she was irritable -- as if though its maker was taunting her for her rage. They were not alike. She would do well to remember.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Not that she ever did. But the footsteps echoing from beyond her peripheral spelled Otolin’s acceptance and, when she looked back after a few moments, he was gone.
Much as she hated it, yet inflicted it upon herself, Kor was alone.
