'Cause I'm not in a right state of mind
I just wish I had strength to admit it
My stubbornness will put up a fight
But I don't deserve to win it.
I just wish I had strength to admit it
My stubbornness will put up a fight
But I don't deserve to win it.
There was a touch. Gentle. Warm. Reassuring. Caring.
Israfel stilled, lips parted, doleful eyes blinking slowly as she realized the resulting warmth spreading through her shoulders was from Luvena herself. Quite honestly, the Sun Daughter had completely missed the movement, but the warmth that seeped between them was enough to begin thawing the chill that had rooted so deeply within her core.
Luvena was hugging her, that slender neck pressed intimately against the strong slope of Israfel’s shoulder, and she found herself unable to comprehend how to respond. Emotion roiled within her breast, cloying her throat, and her eyes burned. When was the last time anyone had hugged her? When was the last time that someone had regarded her with such fondness, such affection, such unabashed care?
It was a foreign, intimate thing, and it burned.
For so long, Israfel had to be strong. For so long, that was all she knew how to do. For so long, she had to carry herself, protect herself, fight for herself, and weep for herself, because no one else would.
Yet here, with Luvena, standing dripping wet in the foyer of her home… Israfel did not have to be strong. She could let her guard down, her shoulders could release the tension, the poise, her blood could finally cool the churning burn without the constant need to fight, protect, compensate, impress, dominate.
She could just be, and Lu would never ask more of her than that.
Luvena pulled away and cast her a smile, so tender, so precious, and Israfel was undone. ’Go lie down,’ the order was spoken, and the Sun Daughter was powerless but to obey.
Long, trembling legs carried the pyromancer towards the mossy bed. She lowered herself with little grace, no longer caring about appearances or facades because she knew those in her company wouldn’t care, either. Vermilion eyes, far more aware and alert than they had been only minutes before, followed the movements of her host as she busied about the quaint chamber to prepare them something to drink. When Luvena lowered herself and presented her the cup of tea, Israfel graciously accepted it with a quirked, weak grin.
“Thank you.” A quick sip bloomed warmth in her chest, despite the temperature being room temperature at best. Instinct almost had her calling for the fires that were hers to control, the element of her Godly birthright, but she refrained. The last thing Isra wanted was to scare Lu even more than she had that night.
When the questions came, the Sun Daughter paused. She lowered her cup, frowning, brows furrowed and ears tipping back as she thought. “I… Can’t recall,” she mused, finding no reason to lie. Something told her that Luvena’s keen eyes would see right through it, anyway. “Most of the evening. I was patrolling when the storm rolled in, and at first I didn’t think it was anything other than a summer rain, but…” That clearly hadn’t been the case. Then the lightning and thunder had moved in, and the winds, and the pouring, torrential, unforgiving rain, and with the arrival of such foul weather came an onslaught of unrelenting memories.
Pulse beginning to quicken, Israfel gasped for breath, her chest growing tight as her grip on the cup faltered. She set it down before dropping it. “There were signs of fl-flooding, and I was worried. About you. I didn’t want…” She didn’t want Luvena’s corpse, twisted and broken, to be one of the many that still haunted her deepest nightmares.
Shame filled her and she glanced away, pale lashes hiding troubled, vermilion depths. “I’m sorry.”
@Luvena