Hymn of the Elder Gods

Paradigm Shift

Samir's facial expression crumpled for half a second, before he'd brought it back under minimal control. "You," He heaved, turning to her, enraged, looking as though he might rend her - or her enemies - limb from limb. She wasn't sure which. "How long have you been thinking this way?"

Either way, Eve jerked a good distance away. "I only mean to make sure everyone else is safe."

"You've always been like this. So foolish. Too private. How many times do I have to say this to get it through your thick skull?" He ran a hand through his thick dark hair. It fell, irritatingly, right back into place. "Eve. Evelyn. You are no longer alone."

"Ok?" She squeaked, taken aback by the intensity of his reaction. Samir watched her with the attention of a crouching lion. As her eyes met his, cautious, the intensity of his gaze seemed to double, sending a tiny, instinctual shudder down Eve's spine.

If she wasn't sure that he was angry before, now, she was certain. Staring at him, words drying at the tip of her tongue, any excuse she could come up with in that moment seemed insufficient. A furrow built between his brow, and he reached for her, hand curling around her neck.

Eve didn't stop him. His thumb rubbed gently against the soft skin where her pulse beat.

His gaze on her twisted to something between frustrated hatred and absolute obsession.

"Nothing more to say, huh?" he murmured, the sound of his voice smoothing back into its usual soft control. The pads of his fingers burned, iron hot against her skin.

"No," Eve said quietly. "I don't have much more to say." It wasn't true. There were so many words building in her mind, excuses, explanations, that they threatened to swallow her voice entirely.

But that wasn't the way she wanted to do things. No, Eve had no desire to expose Samir to the guilt, disdain, and loathing fueling near every decision she'd made in recent days. Trepidation licked up her abdomen, wriggling about, fueling the anxiety stealing her already minimal courage.

A recurring thought emerged, again, as she watched his jaw clench, his head tilt.

Was she hoping that he'd kill her?

Or was she hoping that he'd kiss her?

Would either option absolve her of her sins? Or would they only add to her tally?

Samir's voice was smooth and cold like ice. "You've always been a terrible liar." He didn't lean closer, his hand on her neck drawing her instead, and she followed easily, like a moth to the flame, until his breath was close enough to dust across her lips. "I don't know why I expect things to change, fool that I am. You'd think I would learn. That I would pay it no mind." He let go of her neck and dragged a nail along the underside of her jaw. "Hope is such a foolish human invention. "

"Hope is how humanity is able to go on. Reaching ceaselessly forward in order to live, even in the face of their greatest fears, of evil and horror." At her words Samir paused. Then his lips quivered, just the tiniest bit, into the hint of a smile, and his touch disappeared entirely as he dropped his head back to look at the sky.

"You're not wrong. It's as powerful as it is dangerous." His voice was tiny, so quiet, Eve was sure that his words were not meant for her. "Even after so long, I continue to hope."

Something stuttered in her chest.

She could hardly hear her own voice, over the noisy thud of her heart, but did not dare to speak any louder. "Is this not the first time we've met?"

Silver eyes blazed, snapping down to hers, but the fire went out as soon as it appeared. Instead, Samir looked a little lost.

A burst of cold air, salted with the ocean, stung her cheeks. Eve craned her neck, sensing for the first time a faint sense of amusement that had been stifled by her own tumultuous heart. Samir's head snapped sideways as he felt her go stiff. A startled inhale whistled past his still parted lips.