After Hours

[Caillen Winters]

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brooding Caillen is broody

She reacted to his words like a gunshot. Cold blue eyes watched as the young woman jolted up from her subdued position, and amethyst eyes met his instantly. A whiplash of pain and promise thrilled his blood. They studied each other a moment, opponents and pawns in this cruel game fashioned for them by the hand of fate. Each surveying the other for new chinks in the armor, new battle scars.


She was beautiful, sitting there. Enough to make his throat constrict, the icy pitch of his gaze warming a few degrees to flash subtly like shallow pools of water.


Then her gaze slid away, and Caillen suffered a moment of sharp disappointment. His own sights lingered on her still. Silence fell over them, and he could sense Sylvie's unease, building within her like a rising tide, until at last she spoke again. Shattered violet met turbulent azure. Her words rang in his ears, and he knew the importance of them, and the crucial catalyst his answer would be. This time, it was his gaze that turned away first, surveying the small room. The massive youth took a few steps into the room, gazing at her peculiar collection of human artifacts with false curiosity. "Where is my mother?" He left her question hanging, glancing at her only briefly - Not trusting himself to watch her for longer.


There was still great animosity here, regardless of any wills to make amends, or any underlying attachments the young pair had to each other. He had come here to finish it, and so he would. "I'm sorry for what I did tae her... And you." Back turned to her, because he didn't want the slender collie-girl to see the look of pain that crossed handsome features, the shame that burned black holes in his eyes.