Hey all... time for a shameless plug! Hey, I'm allowed. It's my story.
For those of you that haven't already seen, there is a Black Thorn website in the works. I made it because I was actually asked by a few people why I hadn't yet. This was a bit surprising to me, but I did because it sounded like fun. Anyway, I figure that if you're still here by chapter 9, then you must enjoy this story at least a little, so maybe you'll be nice and go have a looksee. It's got all the current chapters of Black Thorn uploaded, a Guestbook, Forum, Live Journal I'm still getting set up, and will soon have a Black Thorn art gallery, since that's what I've been drawing most as of late. It will also have my other art, if you're curious.
www.senkelliasblackthorn.cjb.net
Go there, and go nuts. Oh, and the shameless plug spot is now up for rent. Want a shameless plug at the beginning of a Black Thorn chapter? Ask me nicely, and you can! Hee. ^^;;
(end shameless plug)
*****
When Danté awoke, he could hear Telia scampering about outside his room, dashing up the hall, then down, and then up again, muttering incomprehensibly to herself. He rubbed his eyes as he stretched, finally pulling himself out of bed. He hadn't felt her wake up. She had slept next to him that night, her back to his front, his arm over her. She said she hadn't been able to sleep in her room, and to be truthful he had needed some company almost as much as she.
Just as he was approaching his bedroom door, it burst open. Telia rushed in, poking her nose in every nook and cranny of the room, as if looking for something the size of a kernel of corn.
'...Telia...?'
Danté's brain was still fuzzy with tiredness as he spoke. His voice seemed almost like it was far away.
'Hm?' It was all she said as she continued to bustle about the room.
'Uh... what are you doing?'
She didn't look up as she spoke, just kept looking around with the same speed. 'Packing your things, of course. It wasn't really all that difficult, since you already had everything so nicely organised in that cabinet. I've packed you a bit of a lunch too, so--'
'What do you mean, packing my things?' Suspicion was rising in him now, replacing the tiredness as his head grew a little clearer.
She finally turned around and looked at him for the first time since the night before from across the small bedroom.
'Well, you are leaving, aren't you? I mean, there's no real reason for you to stay with me anymore.' She said all this rather quickly, as if she had rehearsed it beforehand and was nervous of making a mistake. She motioned his body, up and down, with a slight wave of her hand. 'You're all healed up,' she continued, 'and I don't think you want to live with some dying prostitute in a cheap flat over an illegal shop. That's just silly. You came here to start over, and you don't need me mucking you up from the start.'
She said this without a trace of bitterness. Her attitude was totally different from the night before. Then, she had been alone, afraid, ashamed of herself and in desperate need of help. Now, literally overnight, she had become cold, unfeeling, and totally unaffected by her own less-than- sensitive words. She seemed almost defiant, as if daring the world to throw her another curveball.
Danté didn't know what to do. She didn't really want him to leave, after all. They both knew it. This added up to Danté's theory: she thought he wanted to leave since now he couldn't 'get some'. That thought immediately filled him with such a need to correct her that it almost made him physically hurt.
By the time all this had processed through his groggy zoran brain, Telia had already skittered off to the kitchen to fix him some breakfast. Danté numbly made his way to the kitchen and plunked down into his usual chair. She hummed in an unusually chipper manner for the morning as she slipped crackling fish from the frying pan straight to the chipped white china plate in front of him. As she reached across the table for the salt after replacing the frying pan onto the burner, his hand shot out and caught her by the wrist. She froze, momentarily stunned.
'I'm not leaving.' She didn't move, didn't respond.
He didn't have anything else to say, so he simply gently pecked the back of her hand before beginning what looked to be a sumptuous breakfast.
She slowly made her way back to the opposite side of the square table at which he sat and sank into the chair that stood there. Danté kept right on eating, since the matter was, to him, already settled. He wasn't going to just leave her here, alone, that was certain. He could help her, he knew it. Maybe he could find himself a small job. Then she wouldn't have to work the way she did until-- no, anymore.
He had just caught himself before he thought, 'until she died'. He refused to think about that. As far as he was concerned, she wasn't dying at all. She may as well have told him she was an immortal goddess.
Of course, to him she already was.
***
Telia didn't put up much of a fight to make Danté leave.
She didn't really want him to go... it was just that looking at him made her want to cry. All she could ever see shining back at her from those black eyes was a happy future with someone she truly cared about that she could never have. She had wondered for a long time the previous night, as she had lain awake with her back pressed against him, about what their children may have looked like. Of course, one would be a little human boy with black hair not unlike his father's, and a passion for swimming that wasn't too surprising. The other was a little zoran girl with hair like her father's, thick, straight and flowing, but instead of being black it was a familiar shade of tan.
Telia was surprised at herself for thinking of children with a strange sort of longing. Before Danté had come into the picture, the very notion of children had made Telia shudder. Now her attitude was changed completely. Now she desired them almost as much as she desired Danté. She wanted them simply because they would be Danté's. They would be his, just like she would be.
She wanted more than anything to be able to just be like everyone else, to be able to give herself to Danté forever, the way she knew she could.
Telia wondered sometimes at her childish imagination. One kiss, one that for all she knew had meant nothing to him, and here she was, fantasizing about marriage and children and a future for herself. Anyway, it wasn't important whether or not the kiss had mattered... she had already told him nothing could ever happen between them; the damage was done. Looking back at the previous night now, she felt something close to humiliation. She had told him nothing could ever happen between them... what had made her think he'd even wanted to? What had made her think anyone would want to? She was just merchandise, a brief amusement for sale. That was all she was, and that was all she would ever be. She didn't have enough time do to otherwise.
It seemed so hopeless to her.
She was just grateful she had a light to guide her through the darkness... a light that apparently wasn't going anywhere.
***
'Lord, that was delicious. Why haven't you made that before?' Danté leaned back in his chair, rubbing his stomach contentedly. Telia shrugged slightly, still half lost in thought.
'I suppose... I suppose I thought I would do something special, since I thought...' her voice trailed off, and she seemed to sink back into her own mind. He looked at her for a moment before standing and taking his dishes to the sink.
'Well, it was fabulous.' He moved to the door, taking his cape from the hook beside it, and returning to her. 'I haven't really seen much of the town at all, and I've been here almost seven weeks. Pretty sad, when you think about it, huh?' He gave a cheerful chuckle before pecking her lightly on the cheek and walking down the hall. 'I'll be back in a little while, Tel.' he called over his shoulder as he disappeared out the door.
She sat there long after the door had clicked shut, nearly unblinking. One hand was lightly touching the place where his lips had graced her cheek. The other lay limply in her lap.
It just wasn't fair.
She loved him.
*****
For those of you that haven't already seen, there is a Black Thorn website in the works. I made it because I was actually asked by a few people why I hadn't yet. This was a bit surprising to me, but I did because it sounded like fun. Anyway, I figure that if you're still here by chapter 9, then you must enjoy this story at least a little, so maybe you'll be nice and go have a looksee. It's got all the current chapters of Black Thorn uploaded, a Guestbook, Forum, Live Journal I'm still getting set up, and will soon have a Black Thorn art gallery, since that's what I've been drawing most as of late. It will also have my other art, if you're curious.
www.senkelliasblackthorn.cjb.net
Go there, and go nuts. Oh, and the shameless plug spot is now up for rent. Want a shameless plug at the beginning of a Black Thorn chapter? Ask me nicely, and you can! Hee. ^^;;
(end shameless plug)
*****
When Danté awoke, he could hear Telia scampering about outside his room, dashing up the hall, then down, and then up again, muttering incomprehensibly to herself. He rubbed his eyes as he stretched, finally pulling himself out of bed. He hadn't felt her wake up. She had slept next to him that night, her back to his front, his arm over her. She said she hadn't been able to sleep in her room, and to be truthful he had needed some company almost as much as she.
Just as he was approaching his bedroom door, it burst open. Telia rushed in, poking her nose in every nook and cranny of the room, as if looking for something the size of a kernel of corn.
'...Telia...?'
Danté's brain was still fuzzy with tiredness as he spoke. His voice seemed almost like it was far away.
'Hm?' It was all she said as she continued to bustle about the room.
'Uh... what are you doing?'
She didn't look up as she spoke, just kept looking around with the same speed. 'Packing your things, of course. It wasn't really all that difficult, since you already had everything so nicely organised in that cabinet. I've packed you a bit of a lunch too, so--'
'What do you mean, packing my things?' Suspicion was rising in him now, replacing the tiredness as his head grew a little clearer.
She finally turned around and looked at him for the first time since the night before from across the small bedroom.
'Well, you are leaving, aren't you? I mean, there's no real reason for you to stay with me anymore.' She said all this rather quickly, as if she had rehearsed it beforehand and was nervous of making a mistake. She motioned his body, up and down, with a slight wave of her hand. 'You're all healed up,' she continued, 'and I don't think you want to live with some dying prostitute in a cheap flat over an illegal shop. That's just silly. You came here to start over, and you don't need me mucking you up from the start.'
She said this without a trace of bitterness. Her attitude was totally different from the night before. Then, she had been alone, afraid, ashamed of herself and in desperate need of help. Now, literally overnight, she had become cold, unfeeling, and totally unaffected by her own less-than- sensitive words. She seemed almost defiant, as if daring the world to throw her another curveball.
Danté didn't know what to do. She didn't really want him to leave, after all. They both knew it. This added up to Danté's theory: she thought he wanted to leave since now he couldn't 'get some'. That thought immediately filled him with such a need to correct her that it almost made him physically hurt.
By the time all this had processed through his groggy zoran brain, Telia had already skittered off to the kitchen to fix him some breakfast. Danté numbly made his way to the kitchen and plunked down into his usual chair. She hummed in an unusually chipper manner for the morning as she slipped crackling fish from the frying pan straight to the chipped white china plate in front of him. As she reached across the table for the salt after replacing the frying pan onto the burner, his hand shot out and caught her by the wrist. She froze, momentarily stunned.
'I'm not leaving.' She didn't move, didn't respond.
He didn't have anything else to say, so he simply gently pecked the back of her hand before beginning what looked to be a sumptuous breakfast.
She slowly made her way back to the opposite side of the square table at which he sat and sank into the chair that stood there. Danté kept right on eating, since the matter was, to him, already settled. He wasn't going to just leave her here, alone, that was certain. He could help her, he knew it. Maybe he could find himself a small job. Then she wouldn't have to work the way she did until-- no, anymore.
He had just caught himself before he thought, 'until she died'. He refused to think about that. As far as he was concerned, she wasn't dying at all. She may as well have told him she was an immortal goddess.
Of course, to him she already was.
***
Telia didn't put up much of a fight to make Danté leave.
She didn't really want him to go... it was just that looking at him made her want to cry. All she could ever see shining back at her from those black eyes was a happy future with someone she truly cared about that she could never have. She had wondered for a long time the previous night, as she had lain awake with her back pressed against him, about what their children may have looked like. Of course, one would be a little human boy with black hair not unlike his father's, and a passion for swimming that wasn't too surprising. The other was a little zoran girl with hair like her father's, thick, straight and flowing, but instead of being black it was a familiar shade of tan.
Telia was surprised at herself for thinking of children with a strange sort of longing. Before Danté had come into the picture, the very notion of children had made Telia shudder. Now her attitude was changed completely. Now she desired them almost as much as she desired Danté. She wanted them simply because they would be Danté's. They would be his, just like she would be.
She wanted more than anything to be able to just be like everyone else, to be able to give herself to Danté forever, the way she knew she could.
Telia wondered sometimes at her childish imagination. One kiss, one that for all she knew had meant nothing to him, and here she was, fantasizing about marriage and children and a future for herself. Anyway, it wasn't important whether or not the kiss had mattered... she had already told him nothing could ever happen between them; the damage was done. Looking back at the previous night now, she felt something close to humiliation. She had told him nothing could ever happen between them... what had made her think he'd even wanted to? What had made her think anyone would want to? She was just merchandise, a brief amusement for sale. That was all she was, and that was all she would ever be. She didn't have enough time do to otherwise.
It seemed so hopeless to her.
She was just grateful she had a light to guide her through the darkness... a light that apparently wasn't going anywhere.
***
'Lord, that was delicious. Why haven't you made that before?' Danté leaned back in his chair, rubbing his stomach contentedly. Telia shrugged slightly, still half lost in thought.
'I suppose... I suppose I thought I would do something special, since I thought...' her voice trailed off, and she seemed to sink back into her own mind. He looked at her for a moment before standing and taking his dishes to the sink.
'Well, it was fabulous.' He moved to the door, taking his cape from the hook beside it, and returning to her. 'I haven't really seen much of the town at all, and I've been here almost seven weeks. Pretty sad, when you think about it, huh?' He gave a cheerful chuckle before pecking her lightly on the cheek and walking down the hall. 'I'll be back in a little while, Tel.' he called over his shoulder as he disappeared out the door.
She sat there long after the door had clicked shut, nearly unblinking. One hand was lightly touching the place where his lips had graced her cheek. The other lay limply in her lap.
It just wasn't fair.
She loved him.
*****