Her thinly painted scratches seemed only to throw him into confusion, the playful meaning lost on the Avora. Still, his body understood the sensations well, reacting with a molten heat. The neck was a delicate area, for when animals showed their necks, a predator could take advantage and ended them. Somehow, Eoin felt a weakness from her lingering hand, growing increasingly cautious but strangely comfortable. The presence was not foreign, but natural, a tender gesture despite the dark intentions that followed in shadow. However, the weariness persisted, but his patience was endless. Vala’s was not, and away went her now crumpled fingers, a fist meeting his chest, dragging the rest of her body along. Her small frame sunk into his, the heat consuming her whole. Eoin could not help but feel her curves against his planking body, his mind momentarily drained of thoughts from the unforeseen action and sudden contact. However, his pulse remained at its leisurely tempo, grounding his body from its slight betrayal.
A whimper crawled up to his ears, a pitiful, brittle sound reviving him to his senses. Eoin settled into his exhale, chest collapsing gently as the hot air exited, taking a bit of the heat with it. His body was still gently aflame, but was a slowing fire yearning for kindling. He peered down at the shorter Inartan, her expression hidden away under a mane of crimson. Despite his determination, he felt awkward in their current position, but felt even more so to pull the girl away. Vala was going to such lengths to prove herself unafraid, and in a way, he didn’t have the heart to ignore her efforts. She admitted she was afraid, but of what he wasn’t sure. Eoin knew he was right, thus it could not be the fear of touch for the Chiet had practically thrown herself onto him. However, she had already proved herself to be strategic in thinking from earlier attempts at diverting his focus. This could, and was probably, simply another move forward in their game of tactics. He was disappointed, but was understanding of her perseverance, knowing full well the strength of his own defences.
Barren was the silence, his thoughts resounding clearly through the hollow caverns of his mind. Vala had managed to deter him once more, but with each try, the impact dulled. Recovery came quickly, and somehow, his awareness was heightened. To force an adversary such as Vala to admit defeat, Eoin had to analyze every detail of her gestures, voice, and demeanour, all which came so naturally to others around him. He would have to adapt, learn to tackle the problem with a new perspective, an act easier said than done. Routine was safe, he lived by the comfort it promised. The man did not want to stray if he did not have to, but to remain as ignorant as he was, continuing to take things at face value, would only cause his downfall. He needed to take steps in accepting reality, to become conscious of others, to stop living linearly. Eoin could not promise that to himself, for despite knowing his own weakness, he rarely succeeded in convincing himself to change. He was not heroic enough to say that overcoming this challenge was for Vala’s sake, for her situation was only a small motivator. Rather, it was to quell the demons that fed on his guilt, to chase away remnants of a critical moment past.
His hand, having caught Vala’s false stumble, now rested on her arm. With his mind open to a crack, Eoin could now feel a definite change in her body, her skin growing frigid and muscles stiffening beneath his fingers. Likewise, his temperature was falling to its usual warmth, adding to the strength of the sensation. A familiar memory called to him of a battered man, reeling away from a sneering figure, an atmosphere thick with desperation and malicious intent. He felt disturbed from the thought alone, a bitter taste crawling up his throat, the consequence of a new awareness. There were always misdeeds, but most acted as he had and simply saw past them. Now that he chose to accept the world for what it was, the wide-eyed recollections of a young boy quickly returned. Fear, it was obvious that Vala was drowning in the feeling, blind to the consequences in order to avoid consequences. It was a backwards way of thinking, but all the women in his life seemed full of it, so there was little question.
A gentle grip circled around her thin wrist, pressing into a dying heartbeat that only confirmed his theory. As easily as her body merged with his, they were separated, the other hand helping to guide her arm away. Patiently, he waited for Vala’s eyes to meet his, surprised when they did to see an entirely different person staring back at him. Eoin could not be sure what it was he really saw, still unfamiliar to the subtlety of emotion, but he equated it to an effect of her daring move. For a moment they were locked in a gaze, the man taking in as much of her expression as he could to carefully choose his words. With lenient resolve, he spoke in that steady, blunt tone, his composure fully regained.
“You’re cold, and your pulse is weak.” He lifted her limp wrist in one hand, removing his other from her arm. Her fingers were now curling beneath his eyes, her palm just outside of reach from his cheek with the inside of her arm exposed. “All to protect nothing.” The words were sharp on their own, but coupled with his hooded eyes, seemed more of an observation of pity rather than a statement intended to cause harm. Then, as if in wordless apology, Eoin gently placed her hand by her side, his eyes following. Meeting those watery, blue eyes once more, he ended the contest on his own terms.
“I have my answer. There is no need for anymore.” |