"Things will never be the same again."
Gneiss Underwood never thought that he could have a shot of a normal life.
Growing up in an environment where everything defied sanity, guns and loneliness were his normal companions, if not danger and Death h...
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"Love doesn't demand to be loved back, but it doesn't mean it exists to be taken for granted."
Number Twenty- Nine
Faye was jolted out of her hazy stupor when someone gently took her left hand. She felt a thumb forming small circles on her knuckles, feeling the scars she knew to be there. Krad. Her untimely visitor had to be Krad. After all, he was the only one capable of sneaking on her without waking her up. Like he's some sort of ninja or something. It's frustrating at times, especially because Faye knew she had a goofy face when asleep. She didn't want him to see that.
He raised her hand, which she hung limply, and pressed his lips on it. She didn't intend to, but a shiver of pleasure ran through her body, accompanied by liquid fire that seemed to flow through her thrumming veins. She couldn't move. She wanted to pull her hand away, but her body refused to move. She was panicking inside, not knowing what to do, what so say, or what to think. Would someone tell her what the hell was going on?!
She felt fingers against her face, pushing away stray strands of her sweat-dampened hair. Her skin lit up in flames, and she knew even without her sight that she had to be blushing like crazy. It was awful.
Oblivious that she's awake, Krad allowed his fingers to trail to her lips. He traced it lightly, fighting the urge to lean in, knowing that the consequences would be bad if he gave in to his desires. But it had been so long. He missed her terribly, even if he wasn't willing to admit loudly. As much as it hurts him, he had other obligations. Her safety was his priority, and at this moment, the only danger to her was him. He had to protect her. That's why he had to bottle up everything and throw it away; somewhere so far, so deep and inaccessible that it would be impossible for it to come back.
It's the right thing to do.
"Faye..." Over and over again, that name was sweet music to his ears. He couldn't get tired of it. Innocent yet wicked. Beautiful but dangerous. A fae. So befitting...
With one sharp intake of air, he dropped her hand. He went over to the side table, tearing his gaze away from the beautiful torture. He plucked a single wilted rose petal that had fallen of its crown, holding onto it as if his salvation depended on it.
But what if the right thing to do is not the right one for you?
With a broken smile, he whispered a prayer to the skies. "We're not meant to be. Not even in my dreams. This is not my reality. I have to wake up."
* * *
"Don't move."
"Wha-what are you doing?" Faye stammered as Krad lifted her out of the bed.
A pink blush was forming on her cheeks, but he dared not comment on it, aware that doing so would only be uncomfortable for both of them. Wordlessly, Krad placed her on the wheelchair, at the same time glaring at the young Base who was foolish enough to stay and watch him. The boy realized his mistake too late and his soul nearly flew out of his mouth in terror. With wobbly legs, he scurried away as soon as he was out of Krad's sight.
