Killing Butterflies - Empires SMP

Twelve - Linger

Xornoth had always preferred being alone as opposed to being with other people, but usually when they were alone, they weren't stuck in the same room with basically nothing to do. And the fact they had basically nothing to do was a kind of agony for them, digging into their skin and making it itch with restlessness.

They could read, sure, but the thing was that the books on the shelves were all boring informative guides on psychology, crammed with the same info every other paragraph, and sat on the shelves for no other reason than to annoy them. The idea of picking on up made them feel some kind of nausea, especially when the atmosphere pressed in on them on all sides and refused to let them move.

Their mind flickered back to the book in the drawer. Aphrodite Means Death. It sounded like some kind of heavy, dark love story, not really anything they would normally read, but what else was there for them to read? Some random, outdated, dusty fact book?

They turned to the drawer, shifting ever so slightly, ready to pull the drawer open. All they needed to do was move their hand, latch along the handle and slide it open. That was all they needed to do.

Their eyes bored into the wood. Despite the task being simple, so simple, they couldn't. It wasn't something they could explain. They just… couldn't. Every part of them wanted to open it, but alas, none of them would do it. It was so frustrating, knowing how easily they could do it, but still being unable.

It was just one reach. One grab. They could start losing themself in the pages of the book in no time. But despite themself, they couldn't.

Xornoth continued to stare at the drawer. Usually they didn't have any free time at all. They were always busy doing something, and maybe the wizard had known that, because doing nothing was one of the biggest tortures of all. It grated their nerves, knowing that their time was supposed to be occupied with being imprisoned, but having it freer than ever.

They could read a book. They liked books. Well, they liked some books. And they could probably read the book in the drawer. It would be better than doing nothing, right?

They growled and buried their face into their knees from where they were crouched on the floor, gritting their teeth when the bandage on their head rubbed against it. They'd almost forgotten about the piece of cloth wrapped around their skull, and it did nothing to help the fact they seemingly couldn't remember a lot of things, and made them feel even grumpier.

Why couldn't they just open the drawer? It was stupid. Infinitely stupid. Just like them, which really wasn't a surprise, Exor had driven it into their head a thousand times by now. They really weren't that intelligent. Everything they knew was from him, not themselves.

They blinked, determined to push away the spiral of negative thoughts. They knew it was true, but they also knew that thinking about it would make them feel a lot worse than they already were. Their heart pounded, the briefest warning to an oncoming surge of anxiety, and they leaned against the bed to spark the pain in their wings to try and get their thoughts to silent, to stop.

Their wings twinged, and they were bitterly reminded how the wizard refused to let them take the bindings off. It filled their stomach with a deep rooted rage, and they felt the sickening urge to kill her settle and linger within them.

Blood would look so lovely on her robes, after all. Maybe less so on the purple, but the contrast of crimson on the emerald green would look stunning. It would be even better if her skin was torn just right to expose the splintered bone of her skull, the delicate, bloodshot whites of her eyes ripped and revealed at their fullest.

How dare she act like she had any idea of what it was like to have wings, to have them pinned into an unmovable agony behind her. She couldn't know what was best for wings because she didn't have them, and they for some mysterious reason doubted it could be fixed in a quick spell. And even if it could, it would still be incredibly grating because it wouldn't change how painful they'd been beforehand.