table © Alaine
ooc: this shit is bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s
Her tone matched his in potency, though where his was an inferno, hers remained icy daggers. For the briefest of moments, it was just the two of them, pressed together against the cold hard timber of the Chien Hotel. Gazes locked, each spitting danger and emotion. He could feel her slender body, inches from his own; She was stiff, but he could hear her pulse, almost feel it as cold blue eyes speared through feisty violet. And then his mothers nails were biting into his flesh, and the world was spinning as he threw her off, as Sylvie slipped past to crouch beside her on the ground.
Caillen stood in the doorway, the snarl still frozen on his maw, tiny beads of blood oozing out of the five pinprick clawmarks on his arm. They were ignored. He was breathing heavily, body still trembling in an unstable way.
Alaine allowed herself to fold into her daughter's protective embrace, and she rose unsteadily from the ground where she had been shoved. She nodded mutely to her daughter's inquiry, emerald eyes frozen still on her son, wide and haunted. Caillen returned her gaze, and saw himself reflected in those depths, and saw, worst of all, that fear.
That old fear. That hated fear. He had seen it in his mother's gaze on very frequent occasions, and a strange chill settled in the marrow of his bones as he found himself the object of it's direction. That old fear. The fear that he had inherited from her, the fear that he had spent the majority of his life trying to defeat. It had taken so long, even so long after their arrival many moons ago at Cour des Miracles land, to chase the final remnants of that terror from Alaine's eyes, and now it was back - Destined to stay, indeterminately, lurking in the depths of her beautiful emerald eyes.
He felt as though he were being torn apart. She had betrayed him, and yet all of this, ALL OF THIS, was his fault. It was all his fault. The weight was crushing, asphyxiating. His entire mentality, his total psychological complexion, was being un-stitched at the seams. Caillen didn't know who he was anymore - He was no longer the protector, that was clear. Blue gaze darted to Sylvie. She had replaced him here. There was a windstorm of rage and crushing guilt battering at his mind - The need to hurt something, preferably himself, the need to wreak revenge, the need to be a champion again. Who was he now? He'd lost his identity.
In the end, it was her words that made up his mutilated mind. He hated them. He hated them both. They had done this to him - Him, the prodigal son! Him, who had given his life to protect them! He had been nothing but giving, ready at every corner to throw his life down for them! And Sylvie, she knew that... It was HER who had done this. TRAITOR! He would have given everything for her. He'd loved her, with everything he had, and what had she done? Left him.
Left him.
Alone.
AGAIN.
With a feral growl, the likes of which would be more befitting a monster than the considerate Romeo this male had once been, Caillen rested his gaze on Sylvie's. His eyes were so intensely bright that they appeared fevered, leaping with frozen blue flames. "You broke me, Sylvie Ciel," They were the words that would hurt her most, and they were the pure truth - His voice was cracked with torment, one hand risen to point directly at her, trembling as it was in the air. "Know that you have done this tae me, cruálach bonnán..." He spat the words of his innermost heart, felt it tearing asunder. The finger dropped, and his gaze now landed on Alaine: "And you, striapach - I have ended this. The golden dragon will nae see you again, or I will kill him."
And with those parting words, the youth turned silently from the room, his world dancing in shattered mirrors about his feet. Alaine sagged in Sylvie's arms, and began to sob brokenly.
Speak think walk
[/html]