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Post by Narisha on Jul 16, 2009 21:05:07 GMT -5
She signaled the tavern keeper for another round. Nari had always hated the Lion's Pride Inn and everything it stood for. But as she downed her 3 mead she began to see the benefits of the place. Some man she didn't know had slipped his arm around her waist and she was leaning against him, drunk. Yes, she was drunk and she was so drunk she could admit happily that she was drunk. When he whispered in her ear "How 'bout a dance?" and led her to a semi deserted and rather dark corner of the inn, she drowsily and drunkenly danced for him. The thought flitted past her that perhaps she should have told Sophie or Edmund that she would be visiting the inn when she told them she would be missing dinner. She shrugged it off. There was no one to wait for her to come home... The man stood up and pulled her close to him, dancing with her. There was no one to really mind if she didn't come back... He dragged her willingly into a dark corner. No one would want to rescue her... His lips touched her skin and she felt so dirty, tears welled up in her eyes. She'd pushed away the only man she'd wanted since she was 13... His hands wandered her body and the tears spilled down her cheeks as she took another drink. She deserved it... (Yeah okay, so I'm sappy >.> Theme Song
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Post by Callahan on Jul 16, 2009 22:04:01 GMT -5
The battleplans were nearly done. Well, he'd done a few things. He'd decided where they should flee to, at least. He wasn't having much luck figuring this out. Not even when all of his officers had arrived and tried to assst. Not even when Palus started actually offering real ideas instead of getting the Eredar drunk and whored up. He could hear the rain pounding now, but it had been a lighter sound for a few hours. He didn't know what time it was though, so sent a guard out to check. While the guard did so they tried to focus a little more. "Maybe we could retreat to Darkshire." "Too small, too close, possible undead presence." "How about Booty Bay?" "They'd never accommodate that many refugees. And the Goblins would want paying." "Sir, it's a few minutes past 8." Val paused. He scanned the room, as though expecting her to be there, but she wasn't. He knew, and he felt it. She wouldn't come for him. He wrapped up the plans as quickly as possible, giving his good nights and ordering them to be in tomorrow for the same thing.
Stepping outside into the dark air, he felt the cold stings of the rain hitting him as he made his way quickly home, though even running he wasn't able to avoid getting rather wet. Stepping through the door he found himself welcomed by the concerned face of Edmund. "Sir, is she with you?" "She?" He suddenly realised who he meant. "She isn't here?" The boy shook his head. "No sir, Sophie said she hasn't been here all day, not since she left to give you lunch. Well, she did say she was missing dinner but..." Val stared at the floor, eyes constantly searching his mind for a reason. Why wasn't she here? "Are the youngsters aware?" Edmund nodded slightly, glancing towards the kitchen. "They seem a little anxious. So am I, and Sophie." He added. Breathing, Val glanced back outside before deciding what to do. "I'll take a key. Take care of the children and lock the door. I'll go looking. Don't open the door for anyone unless you're sure it's her. I've got my way in." He patted the key as he placed it in his pocket, turning to exit.
"Sir, a coat maybe?" Val shook his head. Stepping outside without a sound, closing the door roughly behind him. She was out there somewhere. Where, he wasn't certain, but he knew where to check first. His first port of call would be Palus, and after that, he wasn't sure. The warlock gathering areas, maybe. The rough areas of town. If necessary he'd search every damn house. The rain lashed on his back and lightning streaked across the sky, making him slightly glad he wasn't wearing his armour at the moment. He moved at a quick pace, more akin to a jog than a walk, focusing only on where she might be, and not what he'd do if he couldn't find her.
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Post by Narisha on Jul 16, 2009 22:50:29 GMT -5
Laughing, she stumbled up the stairs with another man. This one had saved her from the first as he passed out, pressing her into the wall. She'd been thrilled to see him, greeted him with a joyous "my prince!". He tugged her, giggling, into a room and closed the door pressing her against it.
No one knew where she was and that was how she wanted it
She snagged the bottle from his hands and drank from it. She would be damned if the tears started again. This one worked more quickly than the one she'd been rescued from. She assumed, with a shrug, it was because he thought she was fine with it. Another swig from the bottle. She supposed she was as well.
Lorrietta her tailor had asked where she was rushing off to... She told her Donni's...
Whoops... the laces of her bodice were loose. She gave him a light hearted shove away from her giggling in her drunkness when he grabbed her hand and pulled her roughly to him. Another gulp from the bottle, pouting as it ran dry. He sighed as she asked for another, draping herself over him.. He agreed for the price of a lap dance.
She wanted... she wanted.... no... she couldn't want that...
Armed with the fresh bottle, she danced. Let him guide her and never noticed as foreign hands wandered her figure again. They weren't the hands she wanted. She couldn't bring herself to care.
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Post by Callahan on Jul 16, 2009 23:28:10 GMT -5
She wasn't at Palus's sleeping area. The small nook the paladin spent his nights in was in no way big enough for two, and barely enough for the large man's one. Apart from some scriptures the paladin had in his possesssion that would probably displease the cardinal, he was as pure as the day they'd met. Drunk even then. Apoligising to his friend for the suspicion, he made his way out with his friend's blessing. The rain had not let up, and so he headed over to the warlock's area. He knew where they stayed, one of the few who did, travelling at a quick jog to the Slaughtered Lamb. Stepping inside the man behind the bar looked up, observing the face, before glancing back down. The shadows around him flickered a little then rested as Val made his way down the spiralling staircase into the cellars.
Stepping into a room with a roaring fire, instantly making him feel the contrast against the rain, he approached the only member awake in the room. The warlock looked up, purple hood concealing most of her face, before welcoming him. "You seek something, Grand Marshal?" "Not a thing, someone. Is the warlock Narianne here?" The woman paused a moment, glancing over her shoulder to look down another corridor, though that also ran in spirals downwards. She turned back to him a few seconds later. "They say she isn't." He thanked her, deciding to leave before finding out who they are, making his way back up and out into the cold night. The fire had done little to make him warm, and instead actually made him feel the cold rain all over again.
Since she wasn't there, the only place he could think of next would be to check the inns and pubs. He heard the clock bells toll for half past the hour, knowing it was half eleven already. He made his way around the mage quarters, asking in every public lodging building whether they had seen her, or if she was there, but none had, so he moved on to the trade district. It was much quieter at night than during the day, though many of the occupants were inside due to the rain anyway. He moved through several more pubs, finding no luck, before stumbling upon a tailor closing up shop. His arms were already numb by now and his legs were soon following, so taking the opportunity he approached the tailor. "E-e-xc-cuse m-me... do you k-know a girl c-called N-N-Narianne?" He shivered as he talked, his arms clutching one another tightly. The tailor paused a second, as though in shock, before quickly snapping around to answer. "Yes, oh, yes, she was in here earlier." His face picked up immediately. "W-Where?" He asked, unable to make the sentence longer but wanting to know all the same. "She went to Donni's. The house by Northshire Abbey." Val nodded, breaking into a slight run at the words. before finding the paving stones too slippery and crashing after about 20 paces with a thud. He picked himself up slowly, sneezing a little as he did, restraining his need for speed to a jog, keeping to the road towards the abbey.
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Post by Narisha on Jul 16, 2009 23:56:50 GMT -5
The point of no return. Narianne had passed it. The bottle lay by the bed. The pieces of her dress lay scattered on the floor. She'd come to Goldshire... returned to her roots in a way... to become a whore. She had succeeded. She listened as he pulled his boots on. Another in the line of men tonight who had played with her, the only who had sweet talked her enough in her drunken state to get this far.
He was a rogue, near as she could tell as he dressed. Fitting she supposed, in a purely ironic way. He'd stolen something she could never get back.
Nari curled tighter in on herself. Everything hurt. She flinched as he softly stroked her hair, fighting back the desire to burst into tears as she heard him drop some coins and whisper an apology. It was hardly his fault... she'd chosen this. When the door softly slid shut she cried, pouring out her heart to the pillow she had curled around.
She needed him. And she was even more worthless now then she had been before she left. There was nothing of her that was worth anything anymore.
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Post by Callahan on Jul 17, 2009 0:42:51 GMT -5
The rain was pounding against his face and his legs were aching. After being numb with cold, to suddenly have to move so much was a true strain for them. Usually it would take him half an hour to walk into Goldshire, and another half hour to reach the abbey, but at this rate he'd been jogging briskly only ten minutes and could already see the golden light pouring through the trees. The sound of cheering and shouts could be heard from where he was, even through the thundering rain and his banging ears. The buildings of the town started to come up around him, and in the centre of it all the Lion's Pride Inn. Lion's Pride indeed. He knew exactly just what 'pride' they were talking about.
Usually running down these streets he'd be assailed be a barrage of women and cleavages on either side offering him their wares. Usually he'd be too drunk to decline and end up with them by his side in the morning. Usually... usually he'd be in the pub by now settling into his eight or ninth pint of mead. Palus would be singing songs and blessing everyone within reach. He found that he had slowed passing the inn. Filled with whores. Where he'd apparently met her when she was 13. How many years ago was that? 11? He shook his head, finding himself came to a stop staring at the building. He'd treated her like a whore that night, he was sure, but she wasn't. He couldn't imagine her ever...
A horrid thought crossed his mind. He shivered a bit, but this time not from the cold. Surely she hadn't? He glanced to the left, where the abbey lay. If he continued, got to the abbey without stopping here, did that mean he trusted her? Did it mean he believed she was a good person? And if he didn't drag her from this hell hole? Didn't save her from the lost woman she'd become? What then? If he entered, and he was wrong, he was condemning her, and if he left and he was wrong, he was doing the same. He glanced up once more at the road leading to the abbey, taking a few slow steps in that direction, a burst of laughter echoing from within the inn. "Damn you." He growled to himself, turning sharply and marching into the inn.
Once inside he took a good look around. His tired, raw, angry eyes scanning the people there. Bald men, old men, fat men, drunken all. The women were heavily made up, some quite clearly requiring a drunk man to work, many with partners, but some smoothed over to him like a warm breeze and wrapped their fingers over his body. "He's mighty cold, look at those muscles." "You got anyone to warm your bed up with you darling?" He ignored the sirens, their viscious tongues and ensnaring words. There was no sign of her. Pushing past the group of fleshy women before him, he approached the stairs, slowly ascending and moving from room to room searching. The first was occupied, as was the second and third. The fourth, however, was the one he stopped at.
She was there, laying on the bed, curled up against herself, empty bottles littering around her. Several silver coins occupied the bedside table, and pounding his fist against the doorway he knew he was too late. He brought his forehead against the wood, angry with himself now more than anything. The look in his eyes was no longer fatigue and anger, it was pain and sorrow. He turned his head slowly to face her, unable to bear looking at her in her state any longer, and yet to leave would be to leave her alone. He forced himself to step into that room, closing the door behind him, and moved over to the bed. He looked down on her, his eyes stinging, and sat beside her head. He'd be the one to look out for her tonight. No more would enter that door. No longer would she be alone.
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Post by Narisha on Jul 17, 2009 1:15:50 GMT -5
She heard the door close and curled as tightly as she could around the pillow. She could not believe the mess she had just made of her life and likewise could see no way out of it. She'd made her bed... and oh how the irony of that bit at her, now she would have to lie in it. Night after night, man after man.
The footsteps dragged across the floor. He sounded terrifying and she could feel herself tremble with every step. She knew not all her... clients she supposed... would be like her first. It didn't stop her from hoping that this next would be kind too however. She doubted that without massive amounts of alcohol to lower her inhibitions she could ever be like the rest of the women downstairs and that, she knew, would lower her client base.
Another tear slid down her cheek... so sad to view life in terms of clients and ability.
He sat on the bed next to her and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, her whole body tensing, waiting for him to touch her. He didn't. She burrowed her head into the pillow, knowing what she had to do and wishing with all her heart she didn't... that it wasn't some stranger sitting next to her. Without opening her eyes, she relaxed her face and stretched a hand out the blankets rubbing it up what felt like his arm. Cold and damp, even a novice could work with that. She took in a deep breath, calming her voice before she spoke softly, nearly purring at him.
"You're certainly chilly... Quite the storm outside. Shame you've gotten stuck in it. I'd be more than happy to..." her eyes had slowly opened and worked their way up his form. "help you... warm......."
Her eyes reached his face and mindless of her aches she shot backwards out of bed. Grabbing a sheet and wrapping it around herself as she shrunk back into the wall.
"Isn't... couldn't be... am just imagining things..."
She curled up into a tiny little ball and began to cry again. It was too much. She wanted so badly for him to be here that her mind was playing tricks on her. Even if he had come, had he found her like this he wouldn't have stayed.
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Post by Callahan on Jul 17, 2009 1:31:57 GMT -5
She started murmuring to him, offering to help him warm up, but the way she talked, he was glad she wasn't like the ones downstairs. She was unsure and afraid, probably drunk, and it meant she may be deciding against selling herself off to men who didn't deserve her. He was too late to protect her, but he could still save her. If she wanted to be. He shifted his vision from the floorboards by the bed to her face, her eyes slowly wandering up to his. Did she know it was him? The reaction as she reached his eyes told him no. She jumped out of the bed, wrapping herself in the sheets and staggered towards the wall. He stood, not wanting to approach her, not wanting to frighten her. That was, however, until she fell into a heap of herself and started to cry uncontrollably. He watched in sadness as her emotions took over and felt himself too shed tears, the bitter salts mixing in with rainwater on his skin.
After watching for a few seconds he felt like he could take no more of just observing without trying to help. She was a poor young child who, at least to him, needed comfort. Whether she wanted his comfort, or the comfort of any men in the entire world, he doubted, but a bedsheet is not something that can give the touch and security a vulnerable girl needs. He walked slowly around the bed towards her, keeping his steps soft as he approached. Bending down to a knee he paused at her level, feeling the despair stronger here right before her than a few feet away. Much stronger, almost overwhelming. If he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him it might make him feel better. Not her. She'd been subjected to goodness knows what since leaving Stormwind, and he wasn't going to make it worse.
Raising his hands up from his sides, he slipped the gloves off. They were damp and freezing, and he could hardly move to grab or pull them, but he managed, touching them together but not feeling their pressure against one another. Sighing, he slowly extended his hand towards hers, placing his left hand over her right, with the thumb slipping beneath against her palm, holding her hand gently and not making any further movements. He was there for her, despite where they were. He wanted her to know that. And so he waited, his icy touch on her soft skin, hoping for a sign from her that she was not totally lost to him.
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Post by Narisha on Jul 17, 2009 5:00:21 GMT -5
It was torturous. Her mind had never played tricks like this on her before.
"So real... it's like he's holding my hand..."
The thought just made her cry harder, tightly gripping his hand and pulling it close to her. After a bit, she settled into an eerie sort of silence. Almost like resignation. She raised her red eyes to his, hiccuping softly, and not letting go of the hand holding hers, she raised her free hand to his face, gently stroking down his cheek.
"Maybe I've fallen into the darkness. Become so corrupted by the dark arts and you are my own personal hell..."
Tears filled up her eyes once again, sliding slowly down her cheeks.
"You look just like him... feel just like him..."
She leaned up and brushed her lips across his forehead, letting them linger against his skin.
"So cold..."
She rested her forehead against his shoulder, shaking, emotionally exhausted and physically worn.
"I-I think I lo-love him... I think I have since we met when I was 13... C-couldn't get the sound o-of his voice out of my h-head." A twisted sounding giggle came from her, her teeth beginning to chatter as she shook. "Y-you know what he said t-to me.. that there was n-no way a 13 year old had that kind of body."
She paused in her speech to pick at his clothing, completely delirious with exhaustion. "You're so wet... I'd have never guessed it rained in hell... We met again he and I a few years later... I had thought he was far from my thoughts but I realized when he spoke to me again that he had always been hovering just outside my consciousness. I hated him at 17... he told me I had looked hotter at 13."
Her free palm rested against his cheek and she brushed her nose against his neck breathing in.
"I'd not thought about how he smelled till he kissed me when I was 20. I ignored the nights I'd dream of his lips on mine, his body pressing into mine... that damned railing pressing into my back." Her trembling began to lighten as exhaustion started to over take her. "I still have trouble going into the Pig and Whistle and not blushing at the memories, both real and dreamed."
Nari pulled a bit away from him, still clinging to his hand.
"I don't know why you're here or why you look like him... if this is hell then I'm sure this small peace will end soon and I'll wake up to find another man here with me. One I don't know... someone who isn't him... another one that makes me feel dirty.." Her voice started to become hysterical. "I don't want to be here and yet I have no where else to go... He won't want me back... even if he found me he wouldn't take me back now.. not with what I am."
Nari completely removed herself from him, curling back into the corner, sobbing pitifully once again. Most her energy was gone, but her heart was still broken from her mistakes. She felt she could cry forever.
"I j-just want t-to go home... And I kn-know he w-won't be coming to s-save m-me this time."
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Post by Callahan on Jul 17, 2009 13:41:39 GMT -5
She talked. She whispered and muttered and cried. She was delusional and emotional and quite clearly didn't think he was there. She drew his hand in close to her, unaffected by his cold touch. Her lips continued to move, talking and brushing around his forehead, and he moved with her. His eyes stayed fixed on hers, focusing into her soul and not the sudden loss of cover on her body. She moved her forehead to his shoulder, and he moved his head slightly against hers, rubbing skin gently. She picked at his clothing, her words continuing to talk to him about her past. His past. Their past. Things he'd said 11 years ago. 7 years ago. 4 years ago. Things now. How the man she loved would never take her back, of how she was worthless and he would not be showing up to save her. Not returning by her side to defend her from the destructive touches of the monsters here. Monsters akin to how he was those years ago. She talked, she continued to hold his hand, and he listened.
The blanket was resting around her hips now, but that was only noticeable in his peripheral vision. He focused on her face, his thumb slowly brushing against her hand, his fingers holding onto her almost as tight as she helf onto him. He brought the hand down, lifting up the sheet to help cover her more. She was tired, she was drunk and she was hurt in more ways than he could count. He placed the other arm around her, touching her through the sheets, not wanting her to feel his cold touch on her back. She didn't want or need the cold touch of a man at the moment. She needed the comforts only a bed and the blissful ignorance that sleep could offer, and so he helped her towards the bed, stroking her hand with his thumb the entire way, laying her down gently and placing himself in the chair by her side. He would watch over her tonight, make sure she hurt no longer, and for the first time he spoke to her as she lay there.
"Your knight may save you yet."
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Post by Narisha on Jul 17, 2009 17:34:03 GMT -5
It hurt to wake up. Not just the headache though she could easily pinpoint that as something that was, in fact, excruciating. Her body was sore. She had never been much of one to drink and she'd lost count last night somewhere around the 3rd pint and 2nd bottle of wine. Not to mention, she had evidently curled herself into a ball like she used to do as a child.
"Oww..."
The hoarse sound came from her as she tried to open her eyes only to shut them tightly and turn into the bed.
"Gods... so bright..."
Slowly, carefully, she rolled onto her back and laid there, breathing deeply as she tried to control the headache and body soreness. She hadn't even thought yet about where she was and with a gasp she suddenly jerked into a sitting position. She gave a cry and placed her palm against her forehead.
"Oh... ow..." She concentrated on pushing the pain aside and started to try to climb out of bed. "I'm sure it's well past the time I should be up and I need to make su-"
She stopped mid-sentence, legs hanging off the side of the bed, a hand pressed to her forehead, toes just touching the floor. Silent in realization of what and where she was.
"No... no I don't need to do anything. I have nothing to do with them anymore."
Her soul ached. The hand resting against her forehead dropped down and rubbed against her eyes as she felt tears begin to form.
"Nothing to do with them, and nothing at all to do with him."
Her head dropped and she curled back up in bed wrapping her arms around herself.
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Post by Callahan on Jul 17, 2009 18:19:31 GMT -5
He'd sat with her all night, and she'd slept quite happily. His clothing had nearly dried by now, which was probably a good thing, and he was at the moment considering whether or not he'd actually managed a few hours of sleep on that stool or whether it was just his imagination. It was curious, he thought, that he was in such a similar and yet different situation to the previous day. On a hard stool instead of a comfy bed, and in wet clothes instead of warm dryness, but here he was again with the sleeping troubles, again with the same woman in mind. Last night he had trouble sleeping because she had said that she had no feelings for him. Tonight it was because she said she did. Which was it? Did the alcohol make her lose her inhibitions or cause her to invent things? Was she in a state of emotions that was stable enough for her to decide what she wanted, and who she wanted? He rolled his neck a little to the side, a groan cutting into the air.
But that groan was too feminine to be his. His head snapped down to her form as she seemed to try to wake up, her eyes blinded by sunlight. He remained silent, not wanting to frighten her as she got up and swapped to the side of the bed facing away from him. She was talking as though she were back home for a moment, and then she came crashing around herself, crying again and curling back up into the bed. He was certain by now, after all night to think about it, that she had certainly been talking about him and not some other man she'd known from her past. Heck, he doubted there were any men who could damage a person as much as he succeeded in doing when drunk.
Her sadness filtered into him too, her thoughts of not being part of the children's lives he knew she was close to after such a short amount of time. Not being close to Sophie and Edmund, who he knew she too adored and was happy to see grow closer to one another. The life she had swiftly built around him, and herself, and had now dragged herself away from because of him. Because of how she felt, or didn't feel, towards him. She rested back into the pillow, clearly not aware of him next to her. He knew touch was a bad idea, just as he knew taking the wet clothing off that night would have been a bad idea if she had woken up. Instead he would have to rely on the power of words. Commanders needed to be able to use words, though he was a soldier. Soldiers act, commanders talk. Breathing in a little he spoke softly to her. "Nothing, but that is not my choice. It is yours, if you so desire it."
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Post by Narisha on Jul 17, 2009 19:36:43 GMT -5
"I must be drunk still..."
She gave a self-deprecating laugh.
"If I become an alcoholic on top of all this it will serve me right."
She turned carefully in the bed, towards the sound of his voice and with a wince, opened her eyes slowly to look at him. Her voice was still hoarse from all the crying, and she raised a hand up to wipe her eyes
"Yes it is my choice. I chose to do this and now whether I want to or not I can't go back. You wouldn't or can't understand. You're just some sort of drunken manifestation or I'm in hell. He wouldn't be here."
Her head dropped and she pulled herself to her feet slowly.
"You're not here either... I think that's why my heart hurts so much. You stand here and speak to me. You look so real but I'm sure if I tried to reach out and touch you, my fingers would just slip right through you."
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Post by Callahan on Jul 17, 2009 19:52:07 GMT -5
Her talks of despair caused him to pause and sigh as she talked about how she would fall further into drink, of how she was suffering by his presence. He did not intend to hurt her by being here with her, wanting to be something to keep her safe, not cause her harm. She lifted herself from the bed, apparently unaware or uncaring of her lack of attire, dropping her head to look down as she did so. He moved wearily from the stool he was at as she spoke, his legs straining from cold and numb and ache, making his way somewhat shakily around the bed, listening to her words of how he was a phantom, a spectre. Something here to make her suffer for what she'd supposedly done. He stopped right in front of her, looking her in her teary eyes.
Raising his hand up by her face, he softly stroked his fingers along her cheek. He felt the smooth skin and the dampness from tears as he stroked, taking a hushed tone as he brought the fingers back and forth gently. The voice he had used earlier was still there as he talked, his head tilted slightly to a side either from tiredness or fondness for her. "Does this feel real? Why not reach out?"
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Post by Narisha on Jul 17, 2009 20:21:29 GMT -5
She was surprised she could still blush. But as she closed her eyes, tilting her head into his hand, she could feel it creeping slowly up her cheeks. She felt as though she was losing control of everything. Her heart, her mind... both were spinning out of control and as he told her to reach out she lifted her hand and lightly set it against his chest.
"You can't be real... you just can't be..."
She lifted her eyes to his, her fingers twisting and picking his shirt.
"Why would you be real? There's no reason behind why you would come to find me. I've given you everything you would need to make your life perfect. You shouldn't have a care in the world... You aren't real, no matter how real you feel. You can't be."
She looked away from him and around the room. Pausing with a look of confusion before turning back to him.
"I half expect this place to dissolve away and turn into the tavern where you kissed me. I must be losing my mind. It stands to reason you would be here when I lost it. For all my attempts to keep from thinking of you, you have been on my mind my every waking moment for years."
She slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, sighing. "You can't be real, aren't real... but how I wish you were."
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