#vicariious

It is the scent of gore that lures her -- whets her appetite and moistens her tongue -- barely overwhelming the mind before it asks {what is it that has roused such bloodshed?} and causes her to pause in her quickened steps. Homura suddenly draws to a halt in the realisation that death, grisly death is around the corner and she has had no part in the instigation. Meaning, what? There is an unanticipated killer loose on her streets? 

                                          She cannot let this be overlooked.

continued from x.

( malice. so much malice from her – ) ;

( SHE DESPISES YOU , WRETCHED BOY ) ;

   — Calm blood eyes stare in her direction, the long-dead gaze of them half-lidded, aching. He doesn’t make a move ; his body is stiff, FROZEN ; just like how he had been laid in the box, buried under TAINTED soil & hellfire. He has been LONG-DEAD, yes, a dead thing WALKING ; the demon that dwells inside his mouth is curdling but the boy replies sullenly, somewhat with slight CHILDISHNESS in his tone :

❝—I am.❞ ; ( THERE ARE NO OTHER WOLVES LIKE ME !

 KILL HER, BOY, KILL HER & GET IT OVER WITH ! )

          – ❝I do love you. But–..you always just RUN away from me. You know?❞

– His hands clench against his chest ; he is so, so very tired -

  — ❝You—-just don’t WANT to believe me–❞

HER breath caught in her throat. He wasn’t lying, no, not at all. She had avoided the truth all along, she’d done the same thing Uranai had done to her; to DENY his feelings & banter on about it as if it were a fictional masterpiece would never drive his heart from her.& it was something about hearing it from him, that shook her from the core. To see his body RETRACT from her was heartbreaking & she struggled to keep her distance, because the thought of him alone was enough to stir her insides. The memory of his nails digging into her hips, ripping pleasure through her muscles with the lick of his tongue; she couldn’t IGNORE his presence in her life.

BUT THEY WERE LIKE THE WAVES; LETHAL, YET SO EASILY BROKEN.

& she couldn’t take it anymore; she couldn’t lie much longer. Kera understood well, now, what Alex meant to her; SHE COULDN’T LIVE WITHOUT HIM. So she closed the gap between the them, a soft frown gracing her flushed cheeks & she let her fingers brushed against his chest first ( it’s a HESITANT move, a shyed question for consent ) before her fingers splayed across his chest. She moved closer until her body rested against his & her forehead stayed pressed against his chest as her eyes fell shut. & just like that, she fell apart in front of him.

THE sound of her voice tremored as she spoke, a sense of dread falling over her shoulders ( like a royal cape; she was crowned QUEEN of loneliness. ) ❝I know,❞ she whispered, a faint sound, that it was, ❝I know I run away every time & I’m sorry. I’ve always been so SCARED, & being a loner just… it’s natural for me to run. & it’s not that I don’t believe you, Alex–

SHE could smell him, even if eyes couldn’t find him. His scent was one that lingering in her house; it stained her sheets, made her halls REEK of him. It caused her heart to ache so much, to swell so large within her chest that Kera couldn’t take it any longer, she had to get out of there. So, she did what she could do best.

                                              SHE RAN AWAY.

IT wasn’t much of a surprise; it was all that could be done. She had no other choice but to run herself dry of energy, to sprint & weave through the trees as jump over hurdled bushes until her ankles scratched the ground & her lungs HEAVED in the desperate action to receive air. Until her fur became so caked with mud & dirt that the pure white of it was no longer visible. Until her belly dragged against the ground as Kera pulled herself along, too exhausted to pull herself straight: but the moment his scent INVADED her nose, Kera was LIVID. Because it wasn’t the scent that haunted her for days on ends, the one that hung in the air with heartbreak & dejection. This one, this one was so much stronger.

                                                 & it was fresh.

SHE’S snarling before she even rounded the corner of her house. She’s got her teeth bared, nasty, yellow stained teeth dipping with poisonous saliva; she could TEAR him to bits if she wanted to. The wrath of a Rouge was never one to be taken lightly, for the strength in their bones were never that of a natural formation. She was none other than a war weapon, a DISASTROUS mistake.

                  HOW FRIGHTENING SHE MUST’VE LOOKED,THEN.

& she should’ve been, because she was furious on his appearance, his sudden inclination to show up uninvited. For she was not happy with him one bit, though she may have loved him, she did not any longer. He had taken her heart & torn it to shreds, burned it to ash & threw it to the wind. She would not accept his apology, she would not accept his gifts. Because as she growled at him, there was only one thing Kera really wanted from him: HIS BLOOD.

                                                ❝Is there a reason why you are here?❞

Tegan pls.

                            ♝ Reading a book together.

                         The hour has reached a little past eleven, and two empty glasses                          that once held whiskey were long since abandoned, and in its place                          was a novel in Margot’s hand. Now, she and Will were settled on the                          couch in closer quarters than often enjoyed with outside company.                          Neither had spoken for some time, the comfortable silence between                          them stretching on. No words were shared save for those read on                          the pages. 

*takes a drink* don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

"...Good point.

Unfortunately, I rarely appreciate his absence when it happens---"

my love.

Send me a ▲ for an unpopular opinion.