Hello all!
I'm finally back after over a month of sadly not much activity, and I bring with me a new fanfic!
This is a little drabble that I came up with funny enough for a ferreting assignment. I was supposed to write absolutely anything for ten minutes straight, and I have had this idea floating around in my mind for a while so when I saw that assignment I decided to just go for it. This particular drabble is more a of a mental narrative which was fun to do since it's not what I usually write, I may or may not take the overview of the plot idea and expand it into an immersive story at a later date, but for now I'm really happy about how this worked out for a small ten minute work. This was somewhat inspired by the message idea behind the song Quit, a mashup of Arianna Grande and Sia that youtube autoplayed for me a couple of months ago.
Hope you all enjoy!
Quit
Gyendal should have known from the moment he started that he was playing with fire, the line between love and hate was paper thin and he knew that. The most convincing lies hold a shred of truth in them, and he should have recognized the danger the moment he was able to find a subject to connect to the Darkthrop heir with in order to win her away from her friends.
But he was a fool, to proud to see reality and to confident in his abilities to recognize the warning before it was too late.
Just get a little closer, he was in control he had told himself, a little closer didn't hurt anyone. A hand that fitted perfectly into his own, someone that would sit down next to him during their shift in the night watch and listen as he talked about the past before being turned he had nearly forgotten. She was rough around the edges, but he had deeply underestimated her ability to worm past the walls into the places he was forced to leave his guard down just that bit too much in order to sell this lie.
Gyendal had realized his mistake too late, that day by the fire when she had curled into his side and he hadn't even regestered past reaching over to wrap one arm around the young woman who had become as much apart of his daily routine as his hunting and business in Ged'ahre had once been.
Then the next morning he had woken up, the black haired thief still curled into him just as she had been the night before when he had been foolish enough to relax as part of the group, and he had fully felt the impact of what he had done.
A smart man would have left that day, reevaluated the plan and found a safer way to do this. But he hadn't, he hadn't made that choice because he just couldn't seem to stop. Mel Darkthrop had taken his feet out from under him in a way no one else had and he was in too deep now to get out unscathed.
He couldn't quit her.