Venice Craven

Startled from my dreams I awoke to the feeling of someone moving along side of me. I forced myself to keep my eyes closed. The smells were different. Earthy. Soil. Dry straw. Yes definitely straw beneath me, I could feel the scratchy ends of them pressing into all manner of places. Already I could feel the desire to itch growing within me. Not home. But what is home to me now? Rotating shifts between the floor and the bed with Tal? No, that does not do him justice. He usually lets me have the bed. And now my mind wanders. My leg (bare) is caught between his. Yes a him. The smells and the contact confirm that. Had I been drinking? No. I could not taste whisky or anything else unsavoury. But something else foreign. Him then. Not entirely unpleasant.

My thoughts were distracted momentarily by contact of a hand against my hip, the fingers brushing over my skin, nudging up my shirt to curve around my waist. Unbidden, my eyes opened to another set only, familiar, only inches away. Watching. I drew back a fraction, just enough for me to focus, my eyes moving down over his form. Clothed, or mostly. His chest as bare as my legs. His legs as clothed as my torso. And then his face again with those un-holy eyes. In a rush the previous night returned to me. And my face must of betrayed every moment. As readable as a book. And Him taking it all in. A season then. A moment to be savoured. I drew back towards him. Thoughts again beginning to stir. Did he sleep? Does he sleep? Something I had never thought to ask him. Had he been there the whole night? I voiced them. And he answered. And he asked his own questions and so the rest of the night, and day were spent. I got hungry towards the middle of the day. And of course, little could be found in the cave. What need would there be for such? So with great reluctance I left at dusk to find sustenance and likely him as well. I do not question it.

He thinks himself such the monster for it. But am I any less so? At least He has a reason to do what he does. A need. Millions died by my hand and what need was there in that? What need did Mirae have to die other than my own monstrous temper? A jealous rage. I do not even know if He knows about that. He has not said.

I need to keep thoughts of Him out of my head but it is hard. They know. Lycenth especially. But I think he understands better than the others. Or at least, he keeps his thoughts to himself on it. Which I appreciate. I'll talk to Lycenth about it later. I need to find Tal too. His non-attendance at the ball is worrying me. None have seen him. I had thought at first that perhaps something came up, but my queries at the head quarters have yielded no result. Not that they were keen on saying anything to me anyways.