It was getting out of control, this need to see her, the compulsion to hear her voice and worst of all the sickening desire to touch her, to feel the smoothness of her skin, to dive into the milky valleys of her body, to drown along the endless waves of silky brown hair.
How it came to be was still a mystery to him, a mistake maybe, one that he would never regret.
It had been a shock he had to admit that much, finding her atop of that tower, the soft breeze whipping the soft strands of her wild curls around her face, the determined set of her shoulders as she contemplated the sheer vastness of the fall before her. A determination that disappeared before his eyes as her shoulders dropped as if defeated, turning away from her escape, a brief flash of her face became visible to him as she made to get down and the fear and overwhelming emotion he saw reflected on the pale planes of her face pierced his heart in a way he had never thought possible.
Before he could even consider it his hand had reached out for hers, through the vacant darkness that surround them he felt the warmth of her hand holding on to his for dear life, in so many more ways than one.
As she cried on to him, he could feel the warmth of her body pressing against his, her tears dampening the thin cotton fabric of his shirt and he felt his own heart beating wildly inside his chest and that was the biggest wonder of them all, he could feel…he could feel everything, from the cold draft of wind that blew around them, to the solidness of the stone floor beneath his bare feet and his own blood rushing along his body reminding him that he was alive.
The numbness was gone.
The pleasure of awakening was short lived, by the time the first feeble rays of the morning sun found him atop of the tower, she was gone.
He couldn’t bear the intensity of life, so long had he swam in that ocean of icy indifference that he had forgotten how much it hurt to live in a world full of faceless strangers. He wanted to hate her for it, he needed to blame her for throwing him from his wintry prison into the sweltering bowls of hell.
But whenever he looked at her, all he could see was a reflection of his own torment, she was burning just as much as he was and he couldn’t help but awe at her endurance, at the way in which she managed to paste a false and pained smile on her face for the world to see and ignore.
He couldn’t bare it anymore, watching across the hall, seeing her struggle for air and sanity as everyone else laughed around her.
It took but a thoughtless moment in the empty shadows of the library, to finally lose himself. Had he tried maybe he would have been able to prevent it, but he simply watched her cut away the few strands tying him to sanity, he almost laughed as with every brush of her lips against his she tightened the chains that she had wrapped around him.
And he wanted to hate her for it.
She had become an addiction stronger then the most potent drug, in those stolen moments in empty corridors and shadowy classrooms, she was reborn, transformed into a wild and uncontrollable nymph, that splintering mask of logic and sensibility fell away and her eyes as she teased and tortured his senses reflected nothing more than jumbled thoughts and fragmented images.
He was lost in her touch and her scent, the entire universe falling in around them and freeing them from everything but themselves, but sooner or later the sun would show its jeering face and in its light there was nothing for them to do but pick up their fallen masks and face reality.
For in the eyes of the world he was the monster that hid in your closet waiting to tear at your throat just for the pleasure of tasting your blood, and maybe he really was a monster. Hidding in the shadows watching the masked princess atop of her black tower, her pleading screams for help falling on deaf ears, and even if they heard them they could do nothing for only he held the key.
Even so he would never be her hero, he would never be able to place his claim on her and he knew, as the cold fingers of death grew longer, that a time was drawing near when he would have to relinquish his hold on her, their paths were marked in front of them, each one taking them in opposite directions, she was meant to save the world and he, well merlin only knew where his path would lead him, into deaths arms more likely than not.
He chose to ignore reality for as long as he could, for the time being she was his, a vicious butterfly trapped in his crystal cage, a butterfly that with every touch and whisper imprisoned him in turn.
And he wanted to hate her for it.
A/N: Okay guy so alot of you asked me for more on this particular story and yes I know it's really really short, but unfortunately one of my many weaknesses as a writter is that can't for the life of me plan a story , they just sort of come, hard as I try and trust me I've tried I just can't make them go the way I want, they just drag me along to do their bidding. Well I hope you guys like it and please let me know what you think in a lovely lovely review n_n p.s A huge thank you to my Beta Amber, thak you so much honey I'm sorry I didn't menton this when I first posted it. You're the best thank you sooo much.