Chapter 7: Guiding Light

Cynthia. I know it's a bit too late to say this. I've never enjoyed talking about how I feel about people I care about. The more I care, the less I want to tell.

The greatest trial of my life, you might say, was when I first tried to kiss you in my church. All I had wanted was to touch the girl who had given me so much kindness. All I wanted was to return the affection I thought I had received from you.

Yet, everything seemed to go crazy from thereon.

*

You know Cynthia, you have no idea how difficult you made my life. You have no idea how helpless, how frightened I felt. I was – still am – terrified by the affection I feel towards you. I wish to dominate, to possess you, my little kitten, and you are all to willing to let me do so – that is what terrifies me.

That very first time we made love was in the lake. We did so again, on several occasions, in my bedroom when we arrived in Darene – when the others were out of sight, you barely lived in your own room – you had followed me upstairs, your legs wrapped around me as I carried you by your buttocks, ravishing you as you ravished me. It was only when I had slammed the door behind me, that you could tear yourself away from me, waiting impatiently for me to join you in bed.

You had slipped off your clothes. I could hear you taking them off. When I responded by doing the same, we ensured we were alone, unlike that incident at the loch. Satisfied, you sidled up to me, pushing yourself playfully against me. I could already feel our nipples hardening on both our bodies. You confessed that although we had kissed and touched and embraced so many times before, you still felt shy whenever you were naked before me.

Despite my sightlessness! You are a silly girl.

"Are you sure you want this?" I remember asking while stroking the tails of your hair.

You nodded, burying your face deeper in my breasts.

It was more than I could bear. I carried you onto my bed and made love to you there, so that I could fulfil your hopes of me.

As I took hold of you and made you my home, all I could hear were your cries of ecstasy and your loving words of praise and encouragement. How wonderful it would have been if I could look upon your face. I can imagine it now: those eyes were scrunched closed in pleasure as my fingers worked their magic. Your lips were flushed red as you took my fingers in your mouth and sucked on them like the naughty girl you are. Your flesh was adorably sore and pink as I punished your saucy intentions by mercilessly slapping your derrière even as I continued to pleasure you.

Was I truly punishing you, or had I truly admitted defeat at the hands of my own junior warrior? I don't know.

Afterwards, as we embraced in exhausted and amorous satisfaction, I could see your smile, your wet, beaming face, clear as the light of day. It is tantalizingly clear in the blackness of my eyes, the wonderful moments of intimacy we shared. Passionate, tender, agonizing, painful, addictive, helpless, empowering, humiliating, glorious.

I'll never admit it because I'm no weakling. But your kindness, love and compassion have enchanted me. I don't want to lose this blessing from God.

I don't want to lose you.

*

Cynthia. I love you. I will not let you Awaken. Just as I helped Clare pull back from the Abyss, I will do the same for you.

I'm not sure how far I can influence your Yoki. But I will do my best.

I don't know how I could deal with you being a Yoma. Perhaps I'd kill you with my bare hands, weeping your name. Perhaps I'd lose my will to live, and let you kill me.

Perhaps… it doesn't need to be that way.

*

Cynthia blinked, her eyes wet with tears and blood. She let out a soft murmur as she found herself in Galatea's arms, her body her own.

The city was quiet. The buildings were quiet. Everything was quiet.

Dante had fallen silent. Raphaela was propped on one knee, staring at her in utter disbelief. Even the wind had stopped rustling, as quickly as it had begun to howl when her Yoki became uncontrollable.
Yellow eyes once again silver and her voice no longer guttural and distorted, Cynthia looked at Galatea, her lip trembling. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she clutched at her senior's back. "I…. I… I…?" she stuttered, barely able to move her mouth. "Safe…? … I'm still… human…?"

Yet again, silence.

And then came the words that brought strength back into her body, and into her heart once more.

"Welcome back, kitten," came Galatea's slightly irritated voice.