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Viewing Single Post From: Burn On
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half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Erik mostly stared at her when she first started laughing, but it was contagious and soon enough he was laughing as well, muffling his snorts of amusement in his hands, trying not to make too much noise but the absurdity of being stealthy on a mountaintop making him laugh all the harder. When their mirth eventually died down he was sitting a little taller, inexplicably more comfortable than he had been only minutes before.

He kept silent as she talked, though, eyes dark. His fingers pulled busily at the loops of string encircling his wrists, testing their strength, smoothing the abused fibers back into some semblance of normality. It sounded so strange. So alien. Someone had shot her, had pointed a gun and pulled the trigger. He couldn't seem to imagine it properly in his head without it looking like a scene from a movie -- without it being a scene from a movie, two-dimensional figures who didn't laugh unless it was photogenic or cry unless it was a single perfect tear.

He let the moment hang as she finished talking, bobbing his head once in a nod of acknowledgement. What to say? Hell, what could you say to that? It had taken him uncomfortably long to realize that she was talking about killing Kris, and longer still for him to admit that the thought didn't repulse him as much as he thought. Where had his old morals gone, the crippling fear of death and dying that had hung over him since his mother's cancer? It seemed like the island had devoured them.

It had been longer in his mind than in the world. Eons lost in thought translated to seconds, and he shook his head, lifting it to catch her eyes. "Feel like I oughtta try and talk you out of that, but." The smile twisted for a moment, something awkward and a little confused. "Hell, after the shit she's done maybe it's not such a bad thing."

Had he ever thought like that before? Even when he fought at school, he'd never felt like it wasn't a bad thing. A necessary evil, that's what it had been. Was that what this was? Killing couldn't be right, he knew it wasn't, but someone he didn't think this battered girl in front of him, steel to the core, was going to want to hold hands and talk it out in a sharing circle.

His shoulders twitched in half a shrug. "I'm sorry, though. Must've fucking sucked." Should have sounded patronizing but didn't because hell, he meant it. Sincere. That's what people said. An open book. "Give Kris one hell of a kick from me when you find her."

marc st. yves
light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire
{food for thought}

phineas rosario
fall down seven times stand up eight

sebastian conway
can't see the forest for the trees
{book of sparrows}

(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
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Burn On · The Mountain