I resent being cued. It makes me not want to know.
How would it feel, if you cared for such a person, to watch his complete retreat? To see him day in and out, yet never converse again? To know that he could speak to you if he chose to, but won’t?
Regret is poison that kills the soul.
The nights go on waiting for a light that never comes.
Lass, doona fear me. No matter what happens, promise me you will not fear me. I am a good man, I vow I am.
I always want you, Chloe-lass,” he murmured suddenly in a low voice, for her ears only. “There’s no’ a moment that I doona.
I found it impossible to strive for a goal I couldn’t fathom, to re-create a thing of which I’d no knowledge, like a blind man trying to paint a picture of sky and clouds and sun.
Mayhap you’d prefer to spend this eve with me at an inn, rather than going straight to my brother’s,” he suggested with a seductive smile. Chloe scowl deepened. “One eve is no’ enough?” he teased, though his eyes were distant. “Greedy lass, would you be wishing a week?
S’cool. I’ve lived most of my life under threat of “one of these days” for one reason or another. Superheroes do.
Time does not define the act. Time is impartial; it neither condemns nor absolves. The action contains intent, and intent is where the definition lies.
Chloe-lass, I’m going to keep you.” “Keep me, my ass,” she snapped. “I don’t agree to being kept.” “Forever,” he said, with a chilling smile. “And you will.
Pain distills. The clarifying emotion.
I also figure being eternally happy would be eternally boring so I try not to be too interesting, even though it’s hard for me. I’d rather be a superhero in hell, kicking all kinds of demon ass, than an angel in heaven, wafting around with a beatific smile on my face, playing a pansy harp all day. Dude, give me drums and big cymbals! I like the crash and bang.
It would seem you are in need of assistance, sidhe-seer.” A musical baritone drifted through the window, otherworldly, sensuous, and punctuated by a forbidding growl of thunder.
Fire to his ice, frost to her flame.
I’m not here to argue for the world. That’s not in my job description. I’m just trying to save it.
Oh, God, Drustan, she thought, you didn’t go back in time. You sent me back to save you!
Have I told you, Chloe-lass, that you’re beautiful?” he said softly. She narrowed her eyes. If he thought a generic compliment would buy him a kiss, he was sadly mistaken.
I’m going be that n-n-nail in your coffin.
It was a risky thing he’d just done, of a certain, because if she never agreed, Drustan MacKeltar would ache endlessly for her. His heart trapped by the binding spell, he would sense her eternally, would love her eternally. But should she one day choose to freely give the words back, the bond would intensify a thousandfold. He could live for such a hope.