The Gardens

[shelley_winters]

It is raining heavily outside, clouds blotting out all signs of the moon or stars. The wet scent of the garden in the lightning-charged air is almost palpable.

Icy droplets pelt downwards as Shelley stands frozen, outlined against the faint light coming from the open door a little way behind her. If she's shaking, it's not from the cold.

DA

She can't leave. She can't go back in there.

(tentative lips just brushing hers)

No. Oh, no.

She can walk, out here. Even if he can find her anywhere, it's dark and the robe she wears - his robe - is black. The garden will hide her long enough.

Comments

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

He walks up to stand in front of her. Dark hair falling in a damp curtain around his face. His features stony as he watched her.

"It would not do for you to become ill."

A pause as he looked away from her. His voice as icy and cold as the rain falling around him, the droplet trickling down his chest. The fingers playing with the laces of his dressing gown at his throat are red and shaking slightly.

"I suppose, that no one would fault me for being angry with you. For acting on that anger, some might fault. Some. I will not lie. You hurt me."

Another pause as he took a deep breath.

"It was a thoughtless impulse, yes, but I think that running away was unnecessary. That said, I... am not going to hurt you, or lash out at you or those you care about."

No matter how much his blood boiled with fury! And how much he wanted to put his hands around her throat-on her breasts-to grab her by the shoulders-to hear her squeal-to kiss her hard! A deep breath. No. No. No.

DA

[shelley_winters]

Shelley looks hard down at the floor as he speaks, heartbeat loud in her ears as the icy rain stings her skin.

Hurt him, he says. He kidnaps her and she hurts his feelings?

But somehow she is unable to feel angry, only miserable. After a moment of resounding silence apart from the rain, she looks up at him nervously.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

A soft, resigned smile on his face as he brought a hand to her cheek. His fingers are cold, but not as cold as her face in the wet night. The warm light from a stained glass window behind them-a rose formed of colored panes. A deep sigh. A flash of lightning illuminating the pained look on his face. Droplets of water, like tears, on his face. An almost penitential tone in his voice.

"Kairian Es'ama Sabach--dema dolor--Shantih, Rasaleb."

The rumbling voice of the thunder obscuring his words, the darkness falling around them once more.

[shelley_winters]

Shelley swallows, and doesn't pull away, wrapping her arms slowly and almost unconsciously around herself. Then she nods faintly. His words are only half-understood, but familiar enough in tone.

She can't run from him.
(Was it him she ran from?)
She shouldn't have run.

"...Yes. Sorry."

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

A soft smile as he put a hand on her shoulder, a slight shrug as moving in the soaking wet dressing gown was difficult. A more gentle tone in his voice. A rose-tinted light falling across his face, shadows playing across his damp features.

"Absolved."

[shelley_winters]

She says nothing, just nods once more, eyes fixed hard a little way away. She shivers as the rain beats down unabated, dripping down her legs onto her bare feet.

The thunder growls.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Carefully, he put an arm around her shoulder. She was cold, and he was warmer than she. A look down at her face as he spoke calmly. Water dripping off his own body as he did. They were both soaking wet.

"It is cold out here. We ought to go inside, get you dried off and warm lest you catch ill."

[shelley_winters]

Her thin shoulders tense under his arm, but she is so very cold. They have to go in some time. She doesn't look up, eyes remaining carefully on the rain-sodden grass underfoot.

"...Okay."

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

With gentle care, he lead her inside. It was cold and it would not do to be out in the cold evening. Mist rose like smoke from the burned rose bushes in the icy rain. The stained glass windows stained the ruined garden in reds and oranges, puddles of crimson light at the base of the rose bushes.

A flash of lighting. The sound of thunder echoed.