* 53 * 7/25/12
The rain hadn't let up. Lightning struck off in the distance, far from the Keep, but its loud thunder could be heard quite clearly.
Bishop stood to the east of the inn. He looked up to the sky and felt the downpour on his skin. It was as if he was bathing, being cleansed. At least, that's what he wanted it to feel like. But all the rain really did was remind him of how he felt when he saw Lily's hair float in sections on the delicate stream, framing her face like petals of a flower. He remembered her light green eyes staring up at him, questioning him lightly as he laid above her. He remembered how she pulled him closer to her. He remembered her laugh as she nuzzled against him, encouraging him to not be so serious. The rain, which he had so long loved for its exorcising abilities, was now painful.
Painful because he hated how he was becoming. He had wanted to challenge the paladin to a duel for awhile, but it had been done so hastily and publicly, and he thought he now understood why. Elanee's blackmail and his mind's refusal of her body had set him off, and he had felt the need to prove to himself that he was still the hardened, indifferent ranger he had been for so many years. He wouldn't lose himself to a woman; that's what he saw in Casavir, and he despised that weakness so much it made him angry just to think about it.
But despite telling himself that, here he was, standing in the rain. Thinking about her.
He had lectured the paladin on letting himself become too involved with a woman. He had told him that he needed to be more honest with his holy self, and see that he was becoming nothing more than a loyal puppy to his Leader. Bishop, at least, had the foresight to see what was happening. He knew, when he had drugged her and wanted to bed her, that it was an abnormal craving; he would never go to that extent with just any woman. He knew that meant he craved her so much his desire became way too heated, and that that's why he had been rushing so desperately to satiate it; to get it out of his system.
He knew that he had a sensitive spot for her. He knew that he was bothered because she was upset with him for dismissing her the night before. He knew that desiring to kiss her in the stream was not an instruction that came from below his belt, but instead, above it. He knew that he was falling in love with Lily. He wasn't deluded about any of this at all. But the question was: how could he stop it? If there were to be future moments like that with Lily, he couldn't see himself pulling away; not after tasting the bittersweet emotions that time in the stream had afforded him.
He sighed. Maybe I should've taken the treehugger up on her deal...