[While she doesn't back down entirely, he may see the way her breath hitches, her chest heaving when he steps closer. Close enough that he'll be able to feel the way his words have knocked the wind clean out of her lungs. Her nails dig into the wood behind her, so rough and so deep that she leaves marks behind, in an effort to restrain herself, to keep herself from falling for these tricks of his.
But it's hard when she can see the emotions so clearly in his sharpened gaze that reflect back at her. That green sea of conflict that they both so often drown in together.
She wants him, he wants her, but there are so, so many things that keeps them apart. Shackles that keep them bound to their duties, he to his cause and she to her preservation. And how easy does he think it is to break free of hers when she's learned that she's already lost that fight once?
How easy does he think it is for her to set her heart free to go where it's longed to go—especially now, upon hearing those words—when she, herself, remains bound, not just by her undying loyalty to the man who would keep her from falling into the dark again, but to her convictions? To that anger and that heartbreak that has shaped her, all thanks to him?
That contempt is only goaded as she remembers those last thoughts of hers before she cursed the world to damnation. And he should not be so proud to presume it is all just for him... but for the universe. For the gods who have put her here. For punishing her to... whatever this is.
Her eyes move from elsewhere to meet his gaze evenly, pausing at his lips on the way when a sharp breath catches at the itch that grazes across her own, though the rest of her still trembles with rage and fear beneath him.]
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But it's hard when she can see the emotions so clearly in his sharpened gaze that reflect back at her. That green sea of conflict that they both so often drown in together.
She wants him, he wants her, but there are so, so many things that keeps them apart. Shackles that keep them bound to their duties, he to his cause and she to her preservation. And how easy does he think it is to break free of hers when she's learned that she's already lost that fight once?
How easy does he think it is for her to set her heart free to go where it's longed to go—especially now, upon hearing those words—when she, herself, remains bound, not just by her undying loyalty to the man who would keep her from falling into the dark again, but to her convictions? To that anger and that heartbreak that has shaped her, all thanks to him?
That contempt is only goaded as she remembers those last thoughts of hers before she cursed the world to damnation. And he should not be so proud to presume it is all just for him... but for the universe. For the gods who have put her here. For punishing her to... whatever this is.
Her eyes move from elsewhere to meet his gaze evenly, pausing at his lips on the way when a sharp breath catches at the itch that grazes across her own, though the rest of her still trembles with rage and fear beneath him.]
... And if it is?