"It's enough. I thought maybe I'd never see you again." He says he lacks ambition; he always has.
"I have had enough ambition for us both, I suppose," I say, and lower my head to kiss him. "Because you have asked for nothing, I will give you something great, though only for today." He refused to cut me out of his heart. And I... I think of the things that have passed between us. I think of how he betrayed me so terribly and by accident, and how I can give him a gift that will also be a curse to us both. It is fitting, I think. And so I lie back on the grass, and take his hand in mine as we lie side by side, and without warning I plunge into his mind, find the magic of what he did to us before, and draw it out into myself. It hurts, quite terribly, for an instant, as I will myself to forget, to push my own self back into the corners of this body for a handful of hours. In this pain there is an awful kind of ... relief. To be only this - thing of blood.
*
"Oh," I say, blinking my eyes open. My face's wet with tears, how strange! My arms and legs feel heavy as I try to move, and I roll over to see a handsome and familiar face.
"I know you," I say, frowning, and I reach out and trace his cheekbone with my fingertips. "Micah," I say, and smile quite brightly. I remember him.
no subject
"I have had enough ambition for us both, I suppose," I say, and lower my head to kiss him. "Because you have asked for nothing, I will give you something great, though only for today." He refused to cut me out of his heart. And I... I think of the things that have passed between us. I think of how he betrayed me so terribly and by accident, and how I can give him a gift that will also be a curse to us both. It is fitting, I think. And so I lie back on the grass, and take his hand in mine as we lie side by side, and without warning I plunge into his mind, find the magic of what he did to us before, and draw it out into myself. It hurts, quite terribly, for an instant, as I will myself to forget, to push my own self back into the corners of this body for a handful of hours. In this pain there is an awful kind of ... relief. To be only this - thing of blood.
*
"Oh," I say, blinking my eyes open. My face's wet with tears, how strange! My arms and legs feel heavy as I try to move, and I roll over to see a handsome and familiar face.
"I know you," I say, frowning, and I reach out and trace his cheekbone with my fingertips. "Micah," I say, and smile quite brightly. I remember him.