table © Alaine
ooc: <3 WOO
His words hung, impregnating the air with their venom, and Alaine was staring at him with such shame in her eyes that neither of them could speak, and then-
She was there.
Sylvie had come.
He turned slowly. That soft voice, that logical voice, that feminine french voice, flowed over his flattened ears, sweeping through his body like the cold bite of steel between muscular shoulder-blades. Cold blue eyes, sharp with the bite of winter chill, finally met sparks of fiery violet, interlocking with a mesh that was familiar and yet so painful to him. She had come back, and there she stood - Stood like she belonged here, here with his mother where he should have been.
Behind him, Alaine shook her head, her tear-filled emerald eyes filled with warning for her foster-daughter. This would prove to be too much for her son, she could feel it. And most hated of all, his were becoming the eyes of his father. The mother sensed her own presence becoming as that of a fly on the wall; Caillen would get no argument from her, and he knew that well, for just one look at her damaged mind. Sylvie, however, would prove a much better partner in this dance of pain and fate.
His eyes caressed her, quickly. She was the haunter of his dreams, and he knew her well. Knew her even as he loathed her, and loved her, cursed and craved her. Blue eyes were hungry and hateful. He knew her well. "Sylvie." The word was spoken as though he named a murderer, a fiend or assassin. Something to be held at an arms length. Caillen wanted to pull her to him, shake her senseless, kiss her and hurt her. His body trembled with emotion, but those wintry optical portals were painfully clear. "Was it you who did this? Who corrupted her?" His accented tone was harsh and gravelly, a man's voice now. One hand gestured roughly to Alaine, who cringed, flattening her miserable form against the wall. Caillen's eyes did not leave Sylvie's. "Was it YOU who had her SHAME herself this way? NO. You know NOTHING of this. This is FAMILY business, not business of yours." Alaine gasped in horror at his hateful words, and perhaps Sylvie's treatments had been working, for she rose now to take a step towards her son. "Caillen! You do not mean this thing you say! Sylvie-" Her voice was hushed and horrified. For the first time since Sylvie's entrance, the youth's eyes returned swiftly to his mother, a snarl ripping apart his maw with sharp ivory teeth bared. "DO NOT TELL ME WHAT I MEAN, MATHAIR! YOU HAVE NO VOICE HERE, FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE." With a moan of pain, Alaine's face became dark with shame again.
Speak think walk
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