𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃: 𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙿𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾𝚁𝙰 | 𝙰𝚅𝙰𝚃𝙰𝚁
The older warrior stumbled, cursing, and Na'kei was on him before he could rise. Knees straddling his ribs. Blade drawn. Pressed just above the sacred braid.
His hand closed on Rahk'tep's kuru.
"You want truth?" Na'kei whispered, eyes burning. "Let's see yours."
Rahk'tep froze. Like he'd been stabbed.
Na'kei pulled out his own kuru, tendrils twitching. "You scared? Afraid I'll see something you don't want me to know?"
Rahk'tep's hand clamped down on his wrist. Tight. Shaking.
Na'kei leaned closer, his breath hot across Rahk'tep's jaw. "What's in there, Rahk'tep? A memory of screaming? Of pleasure? Of guilt?"
Rahk'tep growled. "You connect with me, and I'll kill you."
"You already tried," Na'kei hissed. "I woke up anyway."
They stared. Nothing moved but their chests, rising and falling in sync, breath caught between hate and heat.
Na'kei didn't move the kuru any closer. He didn't have to. The tension had already coiled tight as bone.
Rahk'tep finally shoved him off. Hard.
Na'kei hit the stone and rolled to his feet. "Coward."
Rahk'tep stood. His knife back in hand. "Fool."
Na'kei's eyes narrowed. "Traitor."
Rahk'tep's jaw clenched. "Mistake."
The word landed like a blow.
Na'kei didn't flinch, but his voice cracked as he spoke. "Then why did you stay behind? Why follow me into exile, if I'm just that?"
Rahk'tep said nothing. His silence was a confession.
Na'kei walked back to his mat, slow, back straight. He lay down again. Stared into the fire. Let the heat lick his face. Then, without looking:
"You want to hate me? Fine. But don't pretend your hands are clean."
Silence.
Only the fire, and the sound of two outcasts too proud to sleep, too broken to speak.
༺༻
Interesting right? Lets read it (。•̀ᴗ-)✧