The night closed it's eyes and the wind blew.
Pale moon brides danced in a flutter of dark wings.
"Come dance with us" they whisper to the world.
"Come sing with our voice" they sigh to the people.
A bright figure illuminated by moonbeams swayed.
Fluttering dress, dancing hair, invisible music.
"Come to me" the moon sighs in her ear.
"Come with me" the moon cries to his bride.
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
"No." Just like that; short, simple.
"You weren't going to tell me I have a son? Why ever not?" His confusion was cute, the anger lying just underneath, was not.
"I already explained. You are not the father. The man, whose body you stole, is. And no, you are not the same person." Sighing, I turn from him.
The man I once loved was gone. And in his place, this monster stood. I realized, I would never have my love back. This thing, he changed into was so very different. The complete opposite now that I think about it.
"If he were to come back, would you stay? Would and the child, stay?" He seemed lost, a puppy without a guide. I wished it were as simple as he made it seem.
"No. There's no guarantee that you'll allow him to stay. And your word is not enough this time." And now, I was lost. I had nowhere to go.
My parents kicked me out when I told them what was happening. I turned from again, and stood, with my hand upon the icy doorknob. What was I going to do once I stepped through this door? I had no idea. He was behind me, his pale hand covering mine. An incantation whispered and all that remained of my exit was the knob, slightly warmer.
Furious, I spun around, hand rising to smack him, but I couldn't. All I could do was cry. Falling to the floor with a soft "thud" I buried my face in my hands and cried. I don't know if it was the frustration, anger, sadness or fear or all of it combined, but I sat there, on the cold stone of a room I hadn't seen in sixty years.
"Don't cry. Please, don't cry." He was holding me, his face buried in my hair. His arms wrapped me, pulling me closer until I sat in lap. He was so gentle as he held me. It all made me cry harder.
"Shh… please, please stop… I, I. I don't know what to do when you cry… please angel, stop."
I only cried harder, hiccupping between sobs and breaths. I couldn't breathe, not with him so near. I had to get away from him. Had to run, do something. I stopped. Stopped crying, stopped hiccupping, stopped breathing. I was dizzy, so dizzy. I laughed. It was quiet at first, growing as my body shook and tears continued to roll down my flushed cheeks.
He looked at me, alarm and confusion radiated off him. He looked truly confused and I laughed harder, unable to contain it anymore. He held me tighter, rocking us, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He started humming; so quiet I couldn't even hear it. But as we rocked, it grew. It vibrated in his chest; a soothing peace fell over me.
I sat, stunned, curled on his lap, leaning against his chest. Completely dumbfounded that this body- stealing demon, could be so comforting. He rubbed my back; small circles making me relax, resting my head on his shoulder. I fell asleep to his song, his circles and the steady pounding of his heart.
"Would you really go without telling us about… about this… this thing?!"
I hoped whomever was yelling, did not call me a thing. It could be very detrimental to their health. 'Thud.' Oh well. They should have known better. It's so very quiet. like a graveyard. I want to know what's happening, but the game is too fun, and I so hate losing. I hate losing so very much.
"No one is to make such, uncouth comments as that again. You will treat her with the same respect you do me."
And that was it. Couldn't really argue with that. Not if you valued your-
"but, my lord-"
Tch. dumbass.
"She's a mudbl-"
Thud.
Oh, the terrified silences of a dozen inner circle followers, having watched a comrade fail in life. It made me all warm and fuzzy inside, but the idiot should have known better than to argue with him. I mean, come on, how stupid do you have to be that when the Dark Lord says 'jump.' You ask 'why?' Retard. None of them are worth their weight in gold. Or knots. And I mean that in the nicest non-Slithering-way possible. Honest.
