014 | action

[theonewoman]

[ She saw it coming, but could do nothing to stop it. Something irked in the back of her mind. Told her this was going to happen. Unfortunately, instinct was a little too vague on the details when it came to reliving the past.

There had been blood. Quite a bit of it. A lot of tears too. More than she'd like to remember. But that wasn't the most

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[oftheblacksand]

[The mist was powerful, but it hadn't sunk into the depths of his core yet. It would be more characteristic of him to lock himself in his room and wait until the entire situation was over and done with.

But something pulled at him. Her voice, her eyes, her smell was haunting him. It didn't fade when he'd left to watch over his Kingdom, so of course it didn't when he returned to the Academy. He hated it. He hated the feeling, he hated the short conversation they had in the common room.

He had to put an end to her.

He used his painful powers to transport himself to her room, which was a struggle due to the mist. In fact, instead of transporting in front of her bed he ended up in it instead. There was a spark of temper in his psyche which immediately switched off as he stared down at the back of her neck. She was facing the opposite direction, either sleeping or staring out the misted window

[theonewoman]

[ She swallowed, eyes still intent on what lay outside the window. Or perhaps she's watching it happen. Over, and over again. Her skin is col, reflecting her actual temperature.
It isn't until they stray downwards to see an arm. Wrapped in dark clothing, contrasting sharply with his almost ivory hand.
Her eyes widen.
What is he doing here?
Didn't he leave? He did. He left like the other two did. He left, like Adonis, and Hercules.

But he's here.
It doesn't even strike Meg that he's...showing affection. She's too compelled with the idea that he's here.
She sits agape in disbelief, so much so, she can't find words. ]

...

You're warm.

[oftheblacksand]

[She's not undead and attempting to speak through a stitched mouth, she's alive with a voice that sinks through the very depths of him. She's not raging with disgust, pushing him away, or even feeling fear because of him. This would normally be such a boring situation for him. He would have to liven it up by torturing her.

But no cruel magic came. No sharp and sarcastic words left his mouth. Instead his lips pressed against her skin in something a sane person would call an affection gesture.]

Hm...

[A warm breath left him with that faint noise. What could he possibly say in this situation? Warm, serious, and speechless-- Mozenrath?!]

[theonewoman]

...You're really here, aren't you.

[ With a deadpan voice, she's briefly glancing over her shoulder, eyes blank, looking for something familiar. Not a strangling, or a nightmare, not Hades or Hercules.The breath sends a shiver own her spine, her skin realizing just how cold it was. ]