| Subject: no. it was honest. some of my show is to impress you |
Author:
Deangelo
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Date Posted: 6:47pm 04/01/05 Fri
In reply to:
GiGi
's message, "no it is a yes or no" on 12:01am 03/29/05 Tue
For someone who had been subjected to a mortal lifetime of being poked and prodded and pushed to fit into the form a young aristocrat was supposed to present, weaknesses were fodder for more unwanted lectures, arguments, and threats. And he would not apologize for forging his own path- he had not then thought himself so wickedly wrong in his youthful passions. Even now, he could hardly help having the kind of energy and spirit that threw sparks, some inflammatory to catch those around him and spread wildfire in his wake. He did have something to prove. Prove that he was strong enough to stand up against pressure to conform. And to survive a world that would shape him into something he was not.
Not many would love him for that desperate tenacity.
And before he knew what he was doing, he shifted to sit, bracing his weight on one arm, and lean to meet GiGi's sudden embrace, responding to the display of compassion like a starved creature to an unexpected tidbit. Free arm wrapped strong around her, face buried in the silken gold at her shoulder, he listened to her soft kindness, a shuddering tension running through his form as something fought to break loose.
She loved him.
Honestly she must love him, to still sit at his side and offer comfort.
Why?
Drawing an unsteady breath to reply to her refusal to regret, his words, whatever they might be, were silenced by her motherly shush and he swallowed them back with a choke. Good god, no, don't let him break...
But the reinforcement of his neglect did, in fact, crack something stoic in him and as much as he hated himself for it, a single tear, strange unfamiliar sensation, slipped loose and slid into the cascade of her hair. Only a beast would steal a young beautiful girl from the family she must have loved... And how could he respond? Not only in terms of doing justice to her sentiments, but also for the fact that his voice would betray what she surely already knew. Don't be nice to him, please, don't be kind... Damn it all, no, don't melt. Weaklings melted, weaklings died. Or lost themselves. Swallowing to force back a suffocating lump in his throat, the vampire clung tight in her embrace, needing her more than she obviously knew, thanks to his neglect in telling her such things. And all he managed was a choked whisper for forgiveness. "I... I'm sorry, GiGi..." I want to know such things. I want to be there for you. I want to be better. I love you. And I will notice now...
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