Darcy sighed heavily when she continued to deny that there was somewhere else she could be. His face was a neutral mask of displeasure, but he stared hard down at her. He was still trying to decide if she was just a lunatic. He didn’t know what the other options would be for a woman that had broken into his home, claiming she was a goddess and was now insisting on staying with him.
He blinked rapidly when she tapped his nose.
Sighing, he scratched at his beard when she settled back onto the couch. He turned away from her, his hand moving to the back of his neck as he tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling. He was more or less at a loss of what to do. He couldn’t think of anywhere he was comfortable dropping her off at in the middle of the night. He suddenly felt responsible for him somehow, it was probably because of the way she kept saying that she was here for him, though he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.
He rounded on his heel to face where when she claimed that he was the one who needed someone. Brow furrowed over warm amber eyes. They way she had arranged herself made her look as if she was posing. Pretty and poised like a painting. There was no denying that Lanoria was beautiful; she certainly was, but whoever she was, Darcy didn’t know her.
And she wasn’t doing herself any favors, by bringing up Ishara.
His gaze turned cold. His countenance changed in such a way that made him appear as if he were an entirely different person. A very hurt, and very angry person. “Shut up,” he demanded, and he did not look apologetic for his harsh tone. He had never told anyone of the feelings he had long harbored for the deceased woman. And now this stranger thought she could sweep in and disrupt his life. Sorting through his secrets and suggesting she knew how to handle them. Let her go. Move on. Lanoria made it sound so easy. As if he hadn’t been trying for over two decades.
Darcy shook his head and sliced a hand through the air as if her words were a physical thing he could scare off with the motion. “Do not talk about Ishara,” he commanded with a growl, before scrubbing a hand over his face.
Without another word, Darcy stormed out of the living room, leaving the strange robed woman on her own for a few minutes. He could be heard rummaging through the hall closet. He returned with a blanket and an extra pillow. He dumped them next to Lanoria on the couch.
“I can’t deal with this, with you, right now,” he explained with an air of exasperation. “You can sleep on the couch tonight, and I will find away to deal with you in the morning.’
He blinked rapidly when she tapped his nose.
Sighing, he scratched at his beard when she settled back onto the couch. He turned away from her, his hand moving to the back of his neck as he tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling. He was more or less at a loss of what to do. He couldn’t think of anywhere he was comfortable dropping her off at in the middle of the night. He suddenly felt responsible for him somehow, it was probably because of the way she kept saying that she was here for him, though he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.
He rounded on his heel to face where when she claimed that he was the one who needed someone. Brow furrowed over warm amber eyes. They way she had arranged herself made her look as if she was posing. Pretty and poised like a painting. There was no denying that Lanoria was beautiful; she certainly was, but whoever she was, Darcy didn’t know her.
And she wasn’t doing herself any favors, by bringing up Ishara.
His gaze turned cold. His countenance changed in such a way that made him appear as if he were an entirely different person. A very hurt, and very angry person. “Shut up,” he demanded, and he did not look apologetic for his harsh tone. He had never told anyone of the feelings he had long harbored for the deceased woman. And now this stranger thought she could sweep in and disrupt his life. Sorting through his secrets and suggesting she knew how to handle them. Let her go. Move on. Lanoria made it sound so easy. As if he hadn’t been trying for over two decades.
Darcy shook his head and sliced a hand through the air as if her words were a physical thing he could scare off with the motion. “Do not talk about Ishara,” he commanded with a growl, before scrubbing a hand over his face.
Without another word, Darcy stormed out of the living room, leaving the strange robed woman on her own for a few minutes. He could be heard rummaging through the hall closet. He returned with a blanket and an extra pillow. He dumped them next to Lanoria on the couch.
“I can’t deal with this, with you, right now,” he explained with an air of exasperation. “You can sleep on the couch tonight, and I will find away to deal with you in the morning.’
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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Love Games [Closed] - by megs - 11-17-2016, 02:14 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by saronym - 11-17-2016, 03:37 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by megs - 11-18-2016, 02:46 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by saronym - 11-19-2016, 12:04 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by megs - 11-19-2016, 02:02 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by saronym - 11-19-2016, 08:01 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by megs - 12-14-2016, 11:51 AM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by saronym - 12-17-2016, 12:34 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by megs - 01-07-2017, 03:38 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by saronym - 03-02-2017, 10:17 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by megs - 05-12-2017, 04:30 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by saronym - 05-23-2017, 08:55 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by megs - 05-25-2017, 01:07 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by saronym - 06-09-2017, 09:52 PM
RE: Love Games [Closed] - by megs - 08-18-2017, 09:52 PM