"No... Enny what happened?!" Marco firmly grabbed hold of Ens shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes, not even noticing the assasin was in the middle of unsheathing his sword. "Why are you mute? Why is there a bounty on your head?!" His shaky voice cracked. The sheer terror in his expression was purely concern. "I'm not letting anyone hurt you!" His eyebrows furrowed, shifting his fearful expression into a determined, but also somewhat desperate one.
The minute he was touched En kicked Marco in the chest to push him away. Before he could get the chance to move back closer, a golden sword pointed at his throat, with its owner showing not an ounce of remorse or hesitation. If anything, he looked angry, as if yelling, 'Don't you dare pity me.' It had been a year since he'd seen Marco-- a year since he'd smiled. Too much had happened during that time: his voice was stolen, and his brother's death was mocked by his closest friends. It was a harsh wake-up call to his cruel reality; nothing good existed for him. Not even Marco.
Marco stood there, petrified over Ens reaction. He kept inspecting his eyes, hoping to find just a scrap of life, that optimism that he fell in love with. There was none. "Enny please... I don't want to be your enemy!.. Please let me help you. We can fix this!" He didn't back away. No, he even leaned a bit closer, allowing the tip of the blade to touch his throat. "I still love you..." The shapeshifter wouldn't break eye-contact, praying that there was still some of the old En in there.
En narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on his sword, the rose beginning to glow red in reaction. The sword was heating up. There was that damn pain again, that low, cold pulse in his chest that ached with doubts and begged for humanity. It was weakness; a naive side that still believed there was a chance for him to be happy. He'd been tricked too many times by it to know the truth. If he allowed himself to be vulnerable here, to him, it would only end badly. That was the only destiny he had. "I still love you...." His eyes widened with fury, and with flames erupting out of his sword, he swung it downward. A wall of flames raced across the ground, separating the two. En slowly lowered his sword and stared at Marco from his side, his face a mixture of sorrow and iciness. He shook his head at him, as if to say, "You shouldn't." He turned and walked off.
He lost him. Marco realized whatever happened, could in fact not be fixed. At least not by him. He slowly walked a few steps backwards, his eyes still fixated on En, his expression grew bitter... resentful even, repressing his fear with aggression, as he usually does. His vulnerability has been met with rejection and heartbreak, as it always seemed to do. There was nothing left to say. He turned around and slowly and walked in the opposite direction.
PicklePantry
En Litari II
"No... Enny what happened?!" Marco firmly grabbed hold of Ens shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes, not even noticing the assasin was in the middle of unsheathing his sword. "Why are you mute? Why is there a bounty on your head?!" His shaky voice cracked. The sheer terror in his expression was purely concern. "I'm not letting anyone hurt you!" His eyebrows furrowed, shifting his fearful expression into a determined, but also somewhat desperate one.
3 years, 3 months ago
The minute he was touched En kicked Marco in the chest to push him away. Before he could get the chance to move back closer, a golden sword pointed at his throat, with its owner showing not an ounce of remorse or hesitation. If anything, he looked angry, as if yelling, 'Don't you dare pity me.'
It had been a year since he'd seen Marco-- a year since he'd smiled. Too much had happened during that time: his voice was stolen, and his brother's death was mocked by his closest friends. It was a harsh wake-up call to his cruel reality; nothing good existed for him. Not even Marco.
3 years, 3 months ago
Marco stood there, petrified over Ens reaction. He kept inspecting his eyes, hoping to find just a scrap of life, that optimism that he fell in love with. There was none. "Enny please... I don't want to be your enemy!.. Please let me help you. We can fix this!" He didn't back away. No, he even leaned a bit closer, allowing the tip of the blade to touch his throat. "I still love you..." The shapeshifter wouldn't break eye-contact, praying that there was still some of the old En in there.
3 years, 3 months ago
En narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on his sword, the rose beginning to glow red in reaction. The sword was heating up. There was that damn pain again, that low, cold pulse in his chest that ached with doubts and begged for humanity.
It was weakness; a naive side that still believed there was a chance for him to be happy. He'd been tricked too many times by it to know the truth. If he allowed himself to be vulnerable here, to him, it would only end badly. That was the only destiny he had.
"I still love you...."
His eyes widened with fury, and with flames erupting out of his sword, he swung it downward. A wall of flames raced across the ground, separating the two. En slowly lowered his sword and stared at Marco from his side, his face a mixture of sorrow and iciness. He shook his head at him, as if to say, "You shouldn't."
He turned and walked off.
3 years, 3 months ago
He lost him. Marco realized whatever happened, could in fact not be fixed. At least not by him. He slowly walked a few steps backwards, his eyes still fixated on En, his expression grew bitter... resentful even, repressing his fear with aggression, as he usually does. His vulnerability has been met with rejection and heartbreak, as it always seemed to do. There was nothing left to say. He turned around and slowly and walked in the opposite direction.
3 years, 3 months ago