[ Before Vanessa can think of how to offer a suggestion, with her nails digging into her skirt from the desire to take his hand, he has fled. Whatever progress she may have been making—and surely she was—he has not the patience or courage for it. She does not follow after, though that too is an urge she must restrain. Remaining on the couch, Vanessa stares at him while he all but cowers at the window. The fear that moves him is so great that even without her clairvoyance, she aches for the tragedy of it. Such pain, such terror, and how else could it happen if not for a great loss? What could break a person more than the love, or destruction of it? What greater pain than betrayal? To suffer; to transgress. ]
By one consuming flame: it doth immerse, and suffocate true blessings in a curse.
[ A memory whispered under her breath. She would understand, could understand, but is there any time for it? Already he is disrupting their work, which she could have predicted from the cards, but there is no time for these sorts of half-measures. Sir Malcolm needs her, if he is not dead already. Her own fears, the throbbing in her foot, and lack of sustenance makes it so much more difficult to focus, to be patient (she has never been patient), to remain gentle. But should she let that weakness control her, Vanessa may scream and never stop until all around has shattered.
His silhouette and the buildings outside obscure some of the sight from her position, but she can witness just enough blue beyond them to let herself get lost in the sky if she so wishes. ...She does not, for the Heavens are not where she is to tread, but she had noticed him constantly gazing at. As if mystified. Do I seem like an old hand at it?
Never could she share this before, not even with Ethan, but never before has she been in a situation as bizarre and dire as this. Sacrifices must be made on both their parts. This is not the time for her to be coy. ]
I once existed in a place outside of time where it was never day nor night. There was no sky, no grass. [ She looks away. ] ...No. I ceased to exist. I was no one.
[ Her rasp is rougher; deeper now with a strain while she looks at the overturned picture frame. Even so, Vanessa speaks as if she could be telling someone else's story; a desolate chapter in another life. ]
There was no such thing as warmth or color. No sound, no taste, no touch. There was no one else alive in the world, save for the one who kept me there so that I may perform until he was satisfied. To do anything less put me to a torment where I could only pray to drown for an escape.
[ Pity is not what she requests—would be disgusted by it. It is no competition, but an attempt to reach out, even as her hands clench in her lap until knuckles are white. If he is ever to trust her, then he must understand he need not be alone in this journey. ]
This city is no less of a prison. I promised myself I would never be caged again. What of you? Would you not give anything to be free?
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By one consuming flame: it doth immerse, and suffocate true blessings in a curse.
[ A memory whispered under her breath. She would understand, could understand, but is there any time for it? Already he is disrupting their work, which she could have predicted from the cards, but there is no time for these sorts of half-measures. Sir Malcolm needs her, if he is not dead already. Her own fears, the throbbing in her foot, and lack of sustenance makes it so much more difficult to focus, to be patient (she has never been patient), to remain gentle. But should she let that weakness control her, Vanessa may scream and never stop until all around has shattered.
His silhouette and the buildings outside obscure some of the sight from her position, but she can witness just enough blue beyond them to let herself get lost in the sky if she so wishes. ...She does not, for the Heavens are not where she is to tread, but she had noticed him constantly gazing at. As if mystified. Do I seem like an old hand at it?
Never could she share this before, not even with Ethan, but never before has she been in a situation as bizarre and dire as this. Sacrifices must be made on both their parts. This is not the time for her to be coy. ]
I once existed in a place outside of time where it was never day nor night. There was no sky, no grass. [ She looks away. ] ...No. I ceased to exist. I was no one.
[ Her rasp is rougher; deeper now with a strain while she looks at the overturned picture frame. Even so, Vanessa speaks as if she could be telling someone else's story; a desolate chapter in another life. ]
There was no such thing as warmth or color. No sound, no taste, no touch. There was no one else alive in the world, save for the one who kept me there so that I may perform until he was satisfied. To do anything less put me to a torment where I could only pray to drown for an escape.
[ Pity is not what she requests—would be disgusted by it. It is no competition, but an attempt to reach out, even as her hands clench in her lap until knuckles are white. If he is ever to trust her, then he must understand he need not be alone in this journey. ]
This city is no less of a prison. I promised myself I would never be caged again. What of you? Would you not give anything to be free?