It was (or had been, rather) his instinct to meet her admission with teasing. Something about how he’d never gotten into trouble before meeting them. Something about the curse not even being the most dire situation they’d endured together. He wanted that relationship back—where he could poke at her, needle her in all the ways he knew would earn him a petulant glare or a snarky remark. He missed the easy way they toyed with each other. He hated having to tiptoe around her, haunted by the fear that he’d say the wrong thing and lose her forever. It was codependent of him for certain.
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He lowered himself into the seat across from her, only inches separating them. What would she do if he reached out and touched her knee? Flinch away? Lean into him? Would she berate him, outraged at his presumption? Or did she too miss being close to him?
“I told you before, and I meant it. I had no intention of being gone for so long, and I never meant to hurt you.” There was that part of him—maybe it was a mask he wore, or maybe it was truly part of him, nestled deep in the crevice of his heart—that recoiled at his own words. He didn’t want to have to apologize. It had been him who suffered. Him who had been locked away, away from home, poked and prodded with every type of magic, weakened until he could hardly bear to step outside in the harsh sunlight.
Why couldn’t she understand? What all need for… for begging?
And yet he would, and he did, because he needed her. He didn’t deny that part of himself any longer. Yaxley had become his person, by no choice of her own and certainly not his.
He hated it. If only he could hate her as easily. But all he wanted was to soak up her features and earn her smile. Her forgiveness. Her trust.
“I never mean to hurt you,” he said, leaning forward so he could rest his elbows on his knees. He sought her eyes, imploring her to see him even if she refused to hear him.
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He lowered himself into the seat across from her, only inches separating them. What would she do if he reached out and touched her knee? Flinch away? Lean into him? Would she berate him, outraged at his presumption? Or did she too miss being close to him?
“I told you before, and I meant it. I had no intention of being gone for so long, and I never meant to hurt you.” There was that part of him—maybe it was a mask he wore, or maybe it was truly part of him, nestled deep in the crevice of his heart—that recoiled at his own words. He didn’t want to have to apologize. It had been him who suffered. Him who had been locked away, away from home, poked and prodded with every type of magic, weakened until he could hardly bear to step outside in the harsh sunlight.
Why couldn’t she understand? What all need for… for begging?
And yet he would, and he did, because he needed her. He didn’t deny that part of himself any longer. Yaxley had become his person, by no choice of her own and certainly not his.
He hated it. If only he could hate her as easily. But all he wanted was to soak up her features and earn her smile. Her forgiveness. Her trust.
“I never mean to hurt you,” he said, leaning forward so he could rest his elbows on his knees. He sought her eyes, imploring her to see him even if she refused to hear him.
set by lady <3