Everyone's thoughts trouble me of late. Their pain fills me. I can scarcely tell the difference between mine and theirs, at times.
[ Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, even as her heart twists with her gut, and her nails drag against the glass before her hand falls to her side. ]
But you shall always be my greatest concern. ...Did you not once promise to never hide from me?
[ Then, she looks over her shoulder towards him, heavy-lidded. ]
[ he doesn't flinch or withdraw from her touch, even tilting his head into that small display of intimacy between them. but the coolness of her fingers surprises him, eyes widening ever so slightly while not looking away from her. almost as cool as he is. ]
[ What she came from, what it can turn her into, may already be doing. Perhaps she invited it.
It has a name. Many names. And yet she cannot name it herself. Why? As though something forever blocks it. As though she continuously hides from herself, erasing the same discovery again and again.
But she knows it to be evil. ]
Ruin.
[ She holds his face with both hands now, searching for something even as she regrets doing so. Everything is regret, these days. ]
You promised to walk with me in darkness. But do you truly know that that means?
[ his own hands raise now as they more directly face each other, his palms cupping around just above her elbows as she holds him. his eyes do not leave hers, but there's something about the way that words rings through him now that makes him just barely shiver.
Ruin. like the ruin he wrought upon another mortal woman for daring to love him. like the ruin he refused to prevent for his son.
he has no need of breath, of lungs or the air to stir them, but he exhales a slow breath, his head tilting gently downward, his eyes now hooded by his brows. ]
I daresay far better than you ever would, my love.
[ It's there. So close. The finest of meals. An endless course.
And her heart may as well be stifled by needles. ]
Share it with me, then.
[ In different ways, he has forsaken others that he was supposed to have loved.
She cannot claim much different of her own crimes, but perhaps that is why she worries. How is she to be any different from the others? Is there a difference?
She needs to know more.
Her fingers curl, nails gently pressing into his skin. ]
You must know that I would never leave you, not while I draw breath. I would never betray you. Am I to expect any different from you? Will our pasts become our future?
There will always be someone else he can move onto.
To beguile him. ]
How is there any difference between who we are and what we do? You cannot accept one while turning from the other. I am all that I have done and may yet do. Just as you are, beloved.
[ The carmine of the sky flickers through the pale blue of her eyes as her grip on him weakens, and her hands slip away.
Perhaps a reflection, perhaps something deeper. ]
As you once condemned her, for seeing her to do the same to you.
[ the touch against her arms was a delicate thing, his fingers barely brushing against her as she withdraws her hands from him, leaving his hands to hover near.
but his head raises quickly back up, his eyes wide for another reason now. ]
Is that all it would take? A perceived slight, and you would abandon me to solitary destruction?
[ Her hands raise again, this time to cross and hug herself, with fingers brushing against his even as she replaces his gentle hold with one more bruising. Her grim expression is taut from a pain far deeper than anything physical as the words spill out of her. ]
Can I trust in your love? Please tell me that I can, that you would not do to me what you have done to others—women you loved, or even your own blood. I would care nothing for your other choices, so long as you remained with me.
But how can I believe that I deserve anything different? I am more deserving of a cruel fate than they, than anyone. And yet I hope for more of your heart? That you will always love me true? Have I been a fool, Morpheus? I bid you tell me otherwise.
[ his hands hover for a moment more, still surprised and even a little shocked that she somehow knows his thoughts in that moment? knows of his past that he has yet to share with her? how could she know of Nada?
but then she hugs herself, clinging tightly and even painfully onto herself with obvious distress, her words aimed at him. his hands reach for her once more, gripping at her shoulders now. ]
You are not a fool, Vanessa Ives. Nor are you deserving of any fate beyond the actions you have taken thus far. You still choose against evil, and thus you are not.
That is why I remain with you, my love, my dark beloved.
But I have done evil. It is what I am. I have nurtured cruelty. Torture. Betrayal. Death. My hands are already stained with the blood of others and their torment. There is a reason that God has never answered me.
[ She doesn't pull away, but her shoulders are tense. Hunched. ]
I cannot be any different than what I am. I cannot be good. You cannot expect me to be better than what I am, or what I have wrought. I would not ask it of you, no matter what you have done or may yet do.
[ She sobs and looks down, even as tears refuse to fall, and the whites of her eyes darken with a swirling shadow, like black ink spilling into water. ]
I could never condemn you. Not even if you were to abandon your love and turn from me.
[ with her head bowed like that, he doesn't see the change come over her eyes, he only sees the way she holds herself stiff and tense in front of him. he gently tugs on her shoulders, pulling her close to press against him, if she would.
his words grow softer and slower now, the earlier surprise faded enough to focus on her and her distress, on the here and now as he wraps his arms more fully around her. ]
And yet you remain human. By that very choice you cling to, you are not evil. Human hands may commit evil, but so too can they repent and do good. For that is the choice you give yourself. No one may take that from you or condemn you for it, not even one such as I.
[ Something squirms in her, a strange discontent that is not her own even as she leans into him, an alien discontent at receiving comfort instead of retaliation.
You don't deserve it. ]
Human...
[ She blinks back tears while her vision is blurred by his shoulder, and her hands slip to hang at her sides. Only for a moment, before reaching wrapping around his waist, holding him close for the time she is still able. ]
We both know that I am not entirely so. [ Her tone is bitter in this rare admission. ] And if I were to give in to that, as I fear I already have been? To live as my other self? No, as my entire self... Would I not then be evil, in your eyes? Would I not be beyond redemption?
...Are you beyond redemption, Morpheus? ...What of regret?
For all intents and purposes that you claim for your own, you are human. You choose to be so.
[ he takes that small step closer to press them flush together in their embrace, and his head tips down so that his lips brush against her unkempt hair, the breath he plays at for appearances gently stirring the strands as his voice falls just as gently upon her ears. his words still focus on her, picking the thoughts and threads of logic that he thinks will speak to her most vividly while she despairs.
he's familiar enough with his own grief. it does not need to be addressed here. ]
You still seek redemption. You yearn for it, even as you doubt it. This is what sets you apart from that which you fear. Those actions that you regret will serve as your guidepost down your difficult path.
[ one of his hands raise to gently cup her cheek, cool meeting cool as his head tilts a little further, his lips now brushing against the shell of her opposite ear, speaking low and as confidently as he did on the first night they met. ]
[ There is a moment where she nearly relaxes, his words triggering a remembrance of how he once took her nightmares and permitted her peace for a night. Her head tips into his touch with eyes closed.
But these nightmares are not of his creation. They are beyond control. Is she the same, now? Beyond control?
Does she truly care about redemption anymore? What is there even left to hope for? She is not like other humans. God will never have her, no matter how she tries to repent.
Only Evil seems to want her.
Her shoulders tense. ]
Why won't you give me a true answer? Tell me of your own sins. How are they different from mine, then, since you are not human? Would you claim no regret, and carry yourself above redemption? Or do you condemn yourself too far gone to be deserving of such considerations?
[ She holds him more tightly, as though expecting him to try and push her away. ]
no subject
Everyone's thoughts trouble me of late. Their pain fills me. I can scarcely tell the difference between mine and theirs, at times.
[ Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, even as her heart twists with her gut, and her nails drag against the glass before her hand falls to her side. ]
But you shall always be my greatest concern. ...Did you not once promise to never hide from me?
[ Then, she looks over her shoulder towards him, heavy-lidded. ]
Or is it yourself that you hide from?
no subject
What has happened, that you feel other's thoughts and pains? You have not been yourself since we returned.
no subject
Just as he always said I would.
[ Slowly, she reaches up in the hopes of cupping his cheek. ]
Would that frighten you? Anger you? Would you still accept me?
no subject
You speak of that from which you were fashioned?
no subject
[ What she came from, what it can turn her into, may already be doing. Perhaps she invited it.
It has a name. Many names. And yet she cannot name it herself. Why? As though something forever blocks it. As though she continuously hides from herself, erasing the same discovery again and again.
But she knows it to be evil. ]
Ruin.
[ She holds his face with both hands now, searching for something even as she regrets doing so. Everything is regret, these days. ]
You promised to walk with me in darkness. But do you truly know that that means?
no subject
Ruin. like the ruin he wrought upon another mortal woman for daring to love him. like the ruin he refused to prevent for his son.
he has no need of breath, of lungs or the air to stir them, but he exhales a slow breath, his head tilting gently downward, his eyes now hooded by his brows. ]
I daresay far better than you ever would, my love.
no subject
And her heart may as well be stifled by needles. ]
Share it with me, then.
[ In different ways, he has forsaken others that he was supposed to have loved.
She cannot claim much different of her own crimes, but perhaps that is why she worries. How is she to be any different from the others? Is there a difference?
She needs to know more.
Her fingers curl, nails gently pressing into his skin. ]
You must know that I would never leave you, not while I draw breath. I would never betray you. Am I to expect any different from you? Will our pasts become our future?
Will you condemn me?
no subject
[ her determination, her perseverance—so much like that other mortal woman he has loved, the wise and beautiful queen.
the woman who killed herself to get away from him. the woman who would rather die than be with him once she found out who he was.
the woman he cast down to hell because she chose against him. ]
Only for the actions you choose to take.
no subject
There will always be someone else he can move onto.
To beguile him. ]
How is there any difference between who we are and what we do? You cannot accept one while turning from the other. I am all that I have done and may yet do. Just as you are, beloved.
[ The carmine of the sky flickers through the pale blue of her eyes as her grip on him weakens, and her hands slip away.
Perhaps a reflection, perhaps something deeper. ]
As you once condemned her, for seeing her to do the same to you.
no subject
but his head raises quickly back up, his eyes wide for another reason now. ]
What?
no subject
[ Her hands raise again, this time to cross and hug herself, with fingers brushing against his even as she replaces his gentle hold with one more bruising. Her grim expression is taut from a pain far deeper than anything physical as the words spill out of her. ]
Can I trust in your love? Please tell me that I can, that you would not do to me what you have done to others—women you loved, or even your own blood. I would care nothing for your other choices, so long as you remained with me.
But how can I believe that I deserve anything different? I am more deserving of a cruel fate than they, than anyone. And yet I hope for more of your heart? That you will always love me true? Have I been a fool, Morpheus? I bid you tell me otherwise.
no subject
but then she hugs herself, clinging tightly and even painfully onto herself with obvious distress, her words aimed at him. his hands reach for her once more, gripping at her shoulders now. ]
You are not a fool, Vanessa Ives. Nor are you deserving of any fate beyond the actions you have taken thus far. You still choose against evil, and thus you are not.
That is why I remain with you, my love, my dark beloved.
no subject
[ She doesn't pull away, but her shoulders are tense. Hunched. ]
I cannot be any different than what I am. I cannot be good. You cannot expect me to be better than what I am, or what I have wrought. I would not ask it of you, no matter what you have done or may yet do.
[ She sobs and looks down, even as tears refuse to fall, and the whites of her eyes darken with a swirling shadow, like black ink spilling into water. ]
I could never condemn you. Not even if you were to abandon your love and turn from me.
no subject
his words grow softer and slower now, the earlier surprise faded enough to focus on her and her distress, on the here and now as he wraps his arms more fully around her. ]
And yet you remain human. By that very choice you cling to, you are not evil. Human hands may commit evil, but so too can they repent and do good. For that is the choice you give yourself. No one may take that from you or condemn you for it, not even one such as I.
no subject
You don't deserve it. ]
Human...
[ She blinks back tears while her vision is blurred by his shoulder, and her hands slip to hang at her sides. Only for a moment, before reaching wrapping around his waist, holding him close for the time she is still able. ]
We both know that I am not entirely so. [ Her tone is bitter in this rare admission. ] And if I were to give in to that, as I fear I already have been? To live as my other self? No, as my entire self... Would I not then be evil, in your eyes? Would I not be beyond redemption?
...Are you beyond redemption, Morpheus? ...What of regret?
no subject
[ he takes that small step closer to press them flush together in their embrace, and his head tips down so that his lips brush against her unkempt hair, the breath he plays at for appearances gently stirring the strands as his voice falls just as gently upon her ears. his words still focus on her, picking the thoughts and threads of logic that he thinks will speak to her most vividly while she despairs.
he's familiar enough with his own grief. it does not need to be addressed here. ]
You still seek redemption. You yearn for it, even as you doubt it. This is what sets you apart from that which you fear. Those actions that you regret will serve as your guidepost down your difficult path.
[ one of his hands raise to gently cup her cheek, cool meeting cool as his head tilts a little further, his lips now brushing against the shell of her opposite ear, speaking low and as confidently as he did on the first night they met. ]
Courage, Vanessa Ives. Hold to hope.
no subject
But these nightmares are not of his creation. They are beyond control. Is she the same, now? Beyond control?
Does she truly care about redemption anymore? What is there even left to hope for? She is not like other humans. God will never have her, no matter how she tries to repent.
Only Evil seems to want her.
Her shoulders tense. ]
Why won't you give me a true answer? Tell me of your own sins. How are they different from mine, then, since you are not human? Would you claim no regret, and carry yourself above redemption? Or do you condemn yourself too far gone to be deserving of such considerations?
[ She holds him more tightly, as though expecting him to try and push her away. ]
Tell me of Nada.