Hell was where she burned, where she cried, begged and pleaded.
Azriel was her only way.
Nimou, Princess of the Kingdom of Seas is trapped in a storm of nightmares and pain that threatens to come alight with each step forward.
Azriel, her saviour...
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"I want to run. To do what I always do, have always done, for the last five years of my life. Escape, flee into the shadows. But this time, I stand my ground. I'm tired of running." -Marie Lu
CHAPTER EIGHT YOUR PRISONER
LISTEN TO ME It was a whisper, thrumming at the back of her head. So quiet, that she almost didn't catch it at all, barely comprehending what it said.
A moan passed her chapped lips, her consciousness clawing back up for air. She stirred, rolling into warmth. Her eyes swung open, hissing at the searing glare of the sun as connected with sleepy her gaze from the open window. It was beginning to set, the blue blending into seas of pink and purple. Listen to me-- Nim blinked, attempting to register that voice. But every time she tried, sudden memory of deja vu and then vanished out of existence.
A warm hand ran down her cheek, catching her attention. He was there. He was keeping her safe. And in some silent vow, he would continue to do just that. Even if she pushed him away, even if she was the goddess of chaos and even if it hurt him. Nim had definitely hurt him, and now she had to suffer the consequences. And those consequences clearly looked like this, a normal day with his sad puppy dog eyes and warm presence. Gods— he was playing dirty.
Breathes passed before he took the first step because it was clear that she wouldn't. "Are you ready to talk about what happened last night?" He asked softly, his thumb caressing the bare skin of her back, soft circular motions. And a sense of serenity wavered through any remaining worry.
"No." Nim whispered, hands tangling in his hair. The soft curls grounded her, she was here with him. Azriel would keep her safe. "I wanted you to touch me. I just-- it's not you. It's me."
Darkness shielded his eyes, his nose tipping down, looking her up and down. As if he was taking her in beauty one last time. "Are you breaking up with me, Nim?" He smirked, it wasn't anything like the dirty cocky smirks she had received in the past. This felt forced, a smirk that he plastered on his face to assert dominance.
"No! Gods-- I mean breaking up would imply a relationship. But.." Nim mumbled, shaking her head like straw in the wind. She took her deep breaths in, easing her mind into a calm mess. "I don't know if I'm ready to be touched."
A calloused pad hooked her chin up, forcing her sea-sparkled gaze to settle on him. "That's okay, you don't need to touch any male ever again if you do not wish to. I wasn't upset with you– I'm furious that I forgot about your trauma." He snarled, a dark laugh blooming through her ears. He felt like he put her in that situation, like this was all his fault. When it so clearly wasn't. It was hers, her lack of control. "I can't control myself around you."
An ironic statement, as she was the goddess of destruction.
Nim frowned, slouching away from his touch. A wave of frustration warmed her veins. She wanted this male, why couldn't she just do what she was good at. "You should find someone that isn't.. damaged."
