Her eyes told her so. His face was nothing more then the vessel for the two hollow eyes that filled her mind, both black as the night itself. A lie. Night was more; it held the hue of her own gaze, the blue of the remaining dusk sky, and stars. He was nothing, nothing but a black hole that she would be lost it. If she let herself fall. He spoke of the night as if it something not to fear, but embrace. A host of the comfort that she so obviously sought, a deity that would lead her to a sacred place. He spoke as if he was its prophet, here to show her the way. His eyes moved over as if she was something to be coveted, something as sacred as the place he sought to take her.
His hand reached to touch her again, and her eyes closed at the feeling. Her breath was caught in her lungs, and she moved her ears and head back in hopes of retreating away from it. But her body sat still, as if to test the touch. To see if it did indeed hold the things he promised. It was soft, not harsh like she had been promised he would be. Had those warnings been a lie, to keep her from seeing what lay beneath the temptations. Was it to hide the truth from her? The Church girl should have known better then to draw her form from the seat, following the voice that trailed to her ears even as his speech was done. They hung in the air, wrapping her round soft form as if a tether around her being. She felt small before him, though her form could never be described as such. The brown young woman looked upward at the male, meeting the eyes that could hold her still.
Her voice returned to her, and it was her soul that spoke beyond what her mind could gather. It was a single word that told him that she was far from ready to find comfort in his darkness. No. It was yet another whisper, but strong in its own way. Mati Church was no child of the Night, unable to be blessed by the Dark. She was woman of the Sun, and would only find comfort in the Light. |