Nothing's Conventional About Us

VII ~ Midnight

It is not about the midnight
That passed awake
In the memory of your burning touches.
This is about your eyes,
That gaze, darker than midnight,
Still reminding me of the sky.
For, midnight is
The darkest shade of blue.

Midnight

Her widened gaze drank in the sight of the gold oozing from his broken skin for all but a fleeting moment, before it healed, faster than a broken heart in a returning lover's palms. Fleeting. Now there, now not.

Her gaze did not fleet. It stayed there - awestruck, mesmerized - much unlike her quickly dissipating trust. It was probably judgemental of her, and she could understand that herself, but for the love of Gods, she could not bring herself to stop the hurricane of regrets that crashed onto her. 

She had bared her soul to this very man just a very short while back, and she was just now realizing that she did not even have a clear clue on which species he belonged to. 

The tragic hilarity of the situation made her want to laugh and cry all at once, run and hide and fight and just accept, all at once.

The conflict in her eyes was so prominent that even a random stranger could have spotted it; it was no surprise that he did. His eyes darkened into almost black for all but a moment - much like a lion's when it sees its own reflection accompanying the recognition in a gazelle's eyes - but then it dissipated into the usual dark crimson.

Not because he was not a predator. Oh, that he certainly was.

But because, she was no prey. She was a predator herself, and he recognized claws when he saw them. Yes, she could cower - he was a witness of that - but he was also a witness of how she could rip the life out of someone when threatened beyond the invisible line of chivalry. 

Her eyes stayed open, still, her heart hammering, as he continued undoing the strings, now tearing them instead of really undoing the knots, not having a cre in the world about the slices and gashes they left on his fingers. The wounds that healed, and the gold stains that remained, shimmering in the streaks of daylight that stole in through gaps in the black curtains that kept most of the sun out, making it feel like night - twilight, at the most.

Her horror blended into fascination and something else that she could not truly put a finger on, as she watched the literal God that was kneeling on one knee in front of her, helping her get polished up for a lunch. 

That was when her regret disappeared, and a strange sympathy took its place. She could not help asking, "You knew it all along, of course...?"

He finished up the task in hand before slowly standing up, towering over the tall princess's frame by at least half a foot. She could not help but lift a foot, attempting to take a step back. She was not fearful, but intimidated by such a revelation. 

His hand moved quicker than her eyes could track and caught hold of her elbows. The flash of intimidation in her eyes inflamed into fear. Not fear at his strengths, but fear at her own cluelessness. At her own naivety. Naivety had always been her greatest fear. Naivety had always hurt her the most. 

"Of course.", the unusual softness of his voice now sounded lethal to her, as her trust began to slip away. 

Not for once did his face soften, though. Not for once did he ask or request for her fear to dissipate. 

Her heart trembled and her eyes burned. She had no idea what to expect of a God. She herself carried tints of the blood of one, but a being with completely golden blood was beyond just a being. It was beyond the Earth, beyond her knowledge.