Illyria (not_the_shell) wrote in iftomorrow,

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Reaching Out

I finally left the confines of the room that had entrapped Wesley and myself with the sorcery of Fred's entity, finally able to breathe, as I made my way slowly through the hotel. Everyone seemed occupied, concerned with their own insignificant troubles. I stopped and closed my eyes, seeking out Wesley's energy that spoke to me somehow although it was as broken as I had been once.

My eyes snapping open as the song whirled towards me, I followed it, seeking the man who had died in that room once he had watched his beloved leave him again. Yes, he still longed for her, aching, crying, all the pathetic human emotions that had destroyed him. Made him a piece of the earth to be trampled upon and forgotten soon after.

I found him speaking to the air when there was nothing dancing on the winds to speak back to him.


Crouching before him once more, my hands rested upon my thighs as my eyes watched, fascinated. "You feel as though you have no purpose." Strange, for this was the first time that I, myself, had felt a belonging somewhat to these mortals. "You pull your emotions away and hold them within, prisoner," I accused.

How our roles had reversed was incomprehensible to me. I should not be the one to pull a mortal back from the brink of insanity when my own human emotions still troubled me.

"Speak. Now. For I shall not stand by and watch you destroy yourself."

Ah what fools these mortals be...

((Open to Wesley))
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