"It's Team Free Will 2.0. With two salty hunters, one half-angel kid, a dude that just came back from the dead again and the special addition; a tinker-"
"What? No buzzer this time?"
"Uhu, buzzer sounds unmelodious. You don't."
"So you've finally...
"I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her. To hear the immense night, more immense without her. And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass."
― Pablo Neruda
✭•.✭•.✭
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The faint lamplight shined on the sheen of sweat that covered the Nephilim's bare torso. He tossed and turned, restless, in and out of sleep, losing seconds, minutes, and hours. Rolling over onto his back, the boy squeezed his eyes shut, throwing an arm over his face, trying to find a shred of comfort, even though there was no such thing left in his life.
Darkness surrounded him, he could feel it in both his soul and mind. The denseness of it was the one who kept blocking him from trying to get too close to her.
Fayre.
A lurching hollow flared within his gut, and the boy knew it; he knew it in his soul that the girl was in danger. Frightened by his own unbidden reaction, he flew open his eyes and went still as a statue. The perspiration on his brow dripped down on his bare skin, thick Adam's apple slid up and down as his eyes turning to everywhere, searching and imploring. But instead of the familiar grey walls of his room, his gleaming golden orbs picked up nothing but endless dark and a loud screech.
His ears nearly bled from the intensity of the sound, but what got a chill down his back was the anger and burning jealousy in it.
A voice whispered, "Fayre"
It spoke to the girl's name and it was Jake whose blood boiled.
"Open your mind, let me in.", the voice said, more gently this time but who was it fooling? The cruelness in it was hard to ignore.
The whisper was drawing near unless she could be reached because the boy couldn't let that happen, could he? Without her, everything would've been in vain after all.
He wanted to hold her hand, wanted to assure her that everything would be alright but she was too far away, cold and motionless against the invisible binding. At this, the ominous voice chuckled, its grip on her only tightened.
He can fix this, he has to, Jack thought.
With whatever warmth he could gather, he tried to give it to her and fought off the tight grip on the girl.
"Fayre, open your eyes", he assured hoping she would hear.
With each passing word and beat, it felt like his brain was being squeezed dry, and he nearly blackout with the pain but fought to stay conscious, desperate to focus only on her. As he struggled to interpret his words through the fire of agony, he was also ecstatic when the girl grasped firmly to the hope he offered.
