History repeating itself

[Conor Soul]

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durr :B

How much of him was fake? Perhaps the genuine desire for all to be all right shone through and hid away the weariness that he dragged along with him, heavy as a bag of rocks. Perhaps it was because he could feed from those around him. This was all that Conor had ever wanted. He had it all, and the words that the female before him spoke warmed his compassionate heart. There had been times when the male had been uncertain about Nayru. It had been hard to see whether or not she was happy here, but then again she had never given him a reason to think otherwise. She was quick to criticise herself, but so was he. She was afraid to let people down, but she wouldn’t. In that manner, the two of them were quite alike, but Conor was a firm believer.

”Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me,” he said, knowing from the warmth within his chest that his words were as genuine as they could be. Nayru was family, and he was glad she had come to Dahlia de Mai. It was an egoistic thought, but it was true nonetheless. A nod of acknowledgement was given as she spoke the words he wanted to hear; that her heart belonged to Dahlia. He understood what she meant, and that was why this was the right choice to make. She was much older than her actual age suggested. She would do a wonderful job.

”You belong here as much as anyone,” he said, turning his gaze to lazily examine his immediate surroundings. ”I’m glad that learning of your family did not jeopardize that.” For he did not want to lose her. She was one of the constants in his life and he did not wish to see that change. ”There’s something else I wanted to talk with you about,” he then added, bringing lavender back to obtain eye contact. Perhaps it was wrong to toss it at her like this, but she would survive. ”I want you to become Dahlia’s gamma,”