After Hours

[Caillen Winters]

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derp, slow reply. i make it up to you with many words. slight pp - will change it if you mind? <33
sswm: 671

Her joke hung awkwardly on his mismatched ears for a moment. It struck him as unbelievably strange that she could manage to jest at a time like this, but just in time he saw the look of utmost nervousness in her gaze, and understood, as he always had when they were kids. Sylvie had always been good at the fights, at standing up for his stutter when they were pups. She had never backed down from an argument. But speaking from the heart? That took more guts, and Caillen was beginning to doubt whether she had it in her at all.

But of course, she would prove him wrong, time and time again. Always, the collie girl managed to surprise him. Just as the giant had taken a cautious seat beside the dainty damsel, words streamed from her mouth, the verbal explosion enough to have him immediately take to his feet again.

For a moment, her words hung between them with comical clarity. His brain felt like it was stuffed full of cotton - All strange and plush, foggy, stuffy. Claustrophobic, like all of his thoughts and feelings had suddenly decided that there was not enough room within sunny-crowned head. There was an intense pain; At first, Caillen thought it was his head, but then he realized that it came from much deeper in. Much, much deeper. Eyes of sky-blue hue warred with startled violet. It would have been difficult to pick which of the pair was more surprised at Sylvie's outburst, for she too looked startled, and somewhat as terrified as he suddenly felt.

She was speaking again, but Caillen's jaw hung open on its hinges. There were too many thoughts, and they were pounding at his head like angry wasps, buzzing and fretting and stinging.

Painful. Being away from him was painful? A terrible dread began to pool in his stomach. Pieces of the puzzle were clicking into place, revealing a picture he didn't want to see. Self-injury. Sorry. The wasps were growing louder and louder. His mouth was shut in a grimace. All of a sudden, Sylvie was quiet. He could feel her gaze, speculating on the new scarf he wore. Sepirah - What had he done to her? Had he toyed with her, like Sylvie had with him? Were the pair of them just as bad as each other?

The anger was like a burning whiplash. Caillen wasn't done, not just yet. "Is this a joke to you, Sylvie? This love business?" He could hear the cruelty in his own cold voice, and a part of him begged for silence, but it was too late for that now. Hands balled into fists. Inside, he felt a terrible tearing, as though somebody was felling his heart with a rusted axe. "Of course I loved you," A snarl, now. He couldn't remember ever having felt more of an idiot. "Every day, Sylvie, I waited for you to come back. You made a mockery of my love, but I loved you still," A harsh bark of laughter. Her dreamer was tearing apart at the edges. And then the sadness, that which was an ocean, seductively luring him into it's depths. "Don't forget, my love. You walked away from me," Bitter, so bitter, "You left me waiting for you, twice. So why," He loomed over her seated form now, and one hand moved to grasp her arm, to pull her to her feet. Gentler, it moved to her chin, tilting up her pretty face so that shattered violets had no choice but to look into the snowstorm of light blue. "Why should I love you, Sylvie Ciel?" A husky whisper, ivory hand trailing over her cheek, brushing away a few rogue strands of violet-dipped blond, " Please explain to me why the hell is it, that I still love you?" And because he needed to, because he had wanted to since the first moment he'd lain eyes on her in this blasted hotel, the youth dipped his head to kiss her.