The damsel is very much in distress

Silvano Sadira · 10-03-2011, 02:08 AM

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500+
LITTLE RAGE FLOWERS

She persisted as he continued to have his back to her. He could feel the way she must have been looking at him. Probably in disgust, in annoyance. Everything he did not want her to see him as. But she was looking at him that way, and he knew it. Maybe this was the legacy that his mother and father had given him. Was his mother's legendary battle rage in a different form in him? If it was, it came out in slow strands, building up a monstrous storm that he felt raging inside of him. He was no warrior. Silvano was a scholar, and his torture was entirely emotional. Physical, he knew, he could handle, but emotional was far too much to handle. And, oh god, how she must have been looking at him then. But he was too afraid to turn around and see it in her pretty blue eyes. Looking at him, accusing him of his crimes.

He clenched and unclenched his fists in a fit of uncertainty. How to proceed? It was new to him, and it was far too confusing to let his emotions guide him this time. There were too many and they all fought to be the dominant players in his head. Then she said words that felt like true arrows. Almost like a poison spreading into his heart, the Sadira could feel it latching onto his heart and seeping in like dark tendrils. The words stung. Oh, yes, they stung. Silvano did not know what to say to that, to prove otherwise. But he did not want to be the gentleman, when she was the one playing the coquette. "Gentleman, huh?" he managed at last, voice low, but not as he had days before, when they shared their beautiful dance among the fireflies.

Silvano gave a wobbly sigh, as though he was fighting his own tears. And he was, but he managed to keep them down and out of the corners of his eyes. Leaning over, the young man took the book into his hand again, closing it gently like an old friend ought to. He then turned to the woman and faced her full on with a hard face. This was manhood, and he hated it so much. Being a man meant not crying, and all he wanted to do was hide in the darkness and sob his heart out. Emerald eyes hard, he looked at Giselle and took the sight in. The flowers were on the floor, all disarrayed now that they were out of her arms. Tux was hiding in her skirt, and her own visage was a memento of beautiful chaos. "He's more of a gentleman than I am. And I make you feel some indescribable way. Why don't I just save you the trouble, then?" So Silvano brushed past her, keeping himself scant inches away from her. Not once did the young male look at the young woman, eyes looking beyond her, as though she weren't there.

This would just make it easy for her, for him. To deal with her not loving him, he knew he had to let go of it all, and forget her, and get away from her. The cloud that covered him was too broad, too wide, too dark. She was light and beauty, and he found himself too beastly to let her see him. He was too monstrous to let her see him cry.

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