[ He does not balk, to her satisfaction: she cannot know yet the nature of his heart, but it is, as this moment decides, an obliging one. He raises no inept protest, demands no proof of authority from her, and does not challenge her on the question of what draws her so fervently to the darkness. That is wise, for it is not a question, and it does not await an answer. It simply comes, like each unchanging night, to overtake her.
There is something in this darkness that aches, like a bruise, but it is a familiar sting, and sweeter for that. Like a hand pressed firmly over that darkening bruise, she cannot quite bear to lift it away. She longs to sink a bit deeper into that hollowing throb. There is comfort, sometimes, in being blinded to all else.
Though he more or less confesses to bearing no weapon, she steps in to take his arm, as if it is his natural duty to escort her chivalrously into the night. The motivation prompting this gesture is simple: should an assailant befall them, it will land upon him first, hopefully. He makes a better shield than none at all. And he has not answered with a cowardly or resentful no - maybe he does, then, carry some sort of ignoble blade, and can be provoked to draw it should they face anyone of untoward intent. Regardless of what shape those horrors might take, she does not hesitate to urge him onward, though it feels like a decision she herself is responsible for only half of. ]
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There is something in this darkness that aches, like a bruise, but it is a familiar sting, and sweeter for that. Like a hand pressed firmly over that darkening bruise, she cannot quite bear to lift it away. She longs to sink a bit deeper into that hollowing throb. There is comfort, sometimes, in being blinded to all else.
Though he more or less confesses to bearing no weapon, she steps in to take his arm, as if it is his natural duty to escort her chivalrously into the night. The motivation prompting this gesture is simple: should an assailant befall them, it will land upon him first, hopefully. He makes a better shield than none at all. And he has not answered with a cowardly or resentful no - maybe he does, then, carry some sort of ignoble blade, and can be provoked to draw it should they face anyone of untoward intent. Regardless of what shape those horrors might take, she does not hesitate to urge him onward, though it feels like a decision she herself is responsible for only half of. ]
Who calls to you now?