The room is dead silent when he stops talking. One side of his face is encased in the moonlight that floods in. The hollows of his cheeks are completely on display, as well as his heavy eyelashes that cast their own shadows.
He leans into me speedi...
"From which stars have we fallen to meet each other here?" Friedrich Nietzsche, from a letter to Lou Salomé
*********************** Song: Robbers, The 1975 ***********************
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TWO YEARS LATER
There is a beautiful girl walking towards him. Her hair falls behind her, shiny and deadpan black - wavy, flowing in the autumn wind.
Upon closer examination, you see that, her face is angular...almost too angular. Cheekbones swell under sun-kissed skin, they frame her eyes that have recently donned a different color after becoming joined to an Alpha male.
And it should also be noted that upon even closer examination, we see that she is hardly, actually beautiful. All of the features that she has, created a work that is maybe only beautiful at some angles that have to have been softened by flowing hair or a nice smile.
Her almost - but not quite - full lips part slowly as she descended the marble staircase that spills out into a garden of peonies and lilac flowers. Her dress seems to only hinder the tall, tall man watching her, who was sat there in a trance.
A shimmery silver dress clings to her body, her newly found curves around her hips and waist. She has only grown to hate her curves, simply due to the fact that this is just another difference from her twin sister who has left her to travel momentarily with her life-mate. But with months upon months of stress has resulted in her eating more than she ever has in her entire life. She's found baking to be one of the only quieted moments in her day-to-day life (and this may be the reason why her dress clings tight around her hips).
Aside from her face of discomfort, the dress is quite pretty, cupping her shoulders and dipping a bit lowly by her chest. The dress continues down in satiny pleats and splits into an alternating lace and mesh skirt.
The tall man watching her finds his breathe lodged in his throat.
She wants to cry. She wants to weep, and not softly. There came a night, two years ago, when he claimed her that she has thought that maybe she was eternally trapped within a cage. A cage with only him and her and his anger.
Maybe not a horrible anger, but certainly a sad one that left her bruised. She recognized that he loved her and that was all that made her willingly trap herself within a cage of abuse.
Oh how she wanted to change him and flip his warped sense of love onto its axis.
How she loved him. She loved him, she loved him, she loved h-
"We've got to go," her gaze goes to his, "now. You're fucking lover is waiting." He grabs her by elbow, careful to not touch her branding that sends her into fits upon a single touch.
She breathes out a heavy breath, pursing her almost white lips together. "I told you I didn't want to go-"
Caleb turns quick on her, silver eyes like a knife piercing into her heart and striking her with fear. She jumps, on instinct, backwards in his grasp.
"You'd rather he roam freely? Finding other girls to trap and change. And maybe even rape - oh, I'm sorry you weren't entirely raped were you? Just close enough? And branded, huh? Maybe he'll find some other tiny girl with dark hair to rape and brand. Trap her in some fucking cage. Or maybe he'll just kill like your sist-"
She twists in his hold to grab a fistfull of his suit. "How dare you?"
His eyes widen in amusement. "Oh, yes I sincerely apologize for wanting to help you."
She tries to laugh, but it's been so long. Her lips just barely let air pass through them. "All you've done is help me." She repeats the words he's given her on multiple occasions.
"Helped you and your sisters," he clarifies this while leaning closer to her, "the living and the otherwise."
You have not, she wants to scream.
Every single night she prays to whatever there is, that he will look at her, just once. And that when he did it would only be out of love, a good love that holds no alternative agendas. Because if there is one thing that Alice has learned is that Caleb loves and knows nothing but the betterment of himself. Even if that means compromising her.
For the past two years Alice has spent day and night at his side, raising the pack 'from the ashes' as Caleb has said. She first learned that he does not favor his human skin and pushes this ideology upon everything - himself, her, the pack, even the language that is used. His eyes are almost always glowing when he is not in his wolf form, meaning that he only wants to be back in his 'true skin'. He is more wolf than man, and she's accepted this. She has not accepted, however, his anger that stems from his dark past.
When they were out in public he donned the role of a doting mate, but behind doors he hardly touches her. And if he does touch her and they got caught up within each other, his strength and anger dissipates from him to her. He chooses to fervently restrain himself from her for weeks at a time, which causes him to lose himself in her when they're together. Then before they know it, she is cradling a bruised side and he is sobbing on the floor, unable to do much aside from cradling his head.
She has been feeling faint for the past few weeks. Something inside her, deep inside her, has told her that something is fatally off-kilter within her and she has said nothing about this.
Now she swallows, attempting to soothe her irritated throat.
"Caleb.." His back is to her, she sees it stiffen at the sound of her voice.
"Yes?" There is a tightness to his voice that sets her on edge.
She lurches forward and catches her fall with both hands. As she does this, Alice, begins to cough and all that she hidden that had torment her catches up to her.
Her lips feel wet and in the waning sunlight she touches her hand to her mouth. She raises her hands into the sunlight finding them coated in blood.
