The electricity of inflame slices down my spine to the voice behind me, and although I'm aware of the desire overflowing the tone, my heart remains stationary, with a delicate grin tickling the edges of my lips, I sustain my attention upon the horizon "hello, my Knight", I shudder slightly when I detect his warm breath upon the nape of my neck, which he slowly exposes by gingerly brushing the locks of my hair out of the way, my breath falters briefly "what are you doing?" I question him incredulously, failing to remain composed "appreciating the most beautiful woman in the world". His pragmatic tone causes me to giggle, once he places his lips upon my skin, I wish for nothing more than to descend into complete euphoria, I melt into his touch, craning my neck so that he could have more access, but when I do, his gentle hands become rough, delving into the skin of my arms, yelping out in shock, I glance down at his hands "Newt! Let go! You're hurting me!" I exclaim, squirming in his hold, he whirls me around to face him, my stomach drops to the floor and my blood drains from horror. Replacing the once gentle ethereal image of the boy who stole my heart is the sight of nightmares, with widening orbs, I stare upon his infected features, mistrusting my own vision, his long, fluffy strands are withered and shriveled, wild strands protrude around his head and face, hairless patches spot around his head, oozing with fresh thick blood, the once alleviating gaze of the sole person I care for is now bitter and filled with an unnerving desire, one not filled with the flame of passion, but the avid of appetite, lacking any signs of humanity and as void as a starless night sky. Scars are indications of the inexpressible battle between him and his own mind, they litter the battlefield that is his skin, all along his arms and features, leaving no space vacant, and to complete his grotesque appearance is the familiar web of insanity, only they branch out along his arms and neck, I note the curled ends that coil around his cheeks and jaw, attempting to appease my accelerating heart rate, I inhale and exhale deeply, refraining from coiling away from him "sorry, Love, I guess I have no control over myself anymore" he purrs delicately. This sends a shiver of fear down my spine, I place my hands upon his chest, pushing him slightly to create some distance between us "it's okay, Newt, we can get through this, I just know it" I encourage him, skimming my fingers along his arms reassuringly, but his rough grip remains "but that's the thing, Love, we were never meant to last long", my breath catches in the back of my throat, a collection of grief obstructing it's path "don't say that, we'll get through this, you just have to fight it", I become desperate as I notice no alteration in his demeanor. "It's a part of me now, Love, soon you will be what I am", I shake my head, dismissing the thought so that it withers upon my disbelieving mind "soon you too will be nothing but another mind lost to the Flare", my breath hitches as I gaze upon him in horror, he chuckles impiously, appearing to understand the depth of his words "soon, we will be nothing more than two crazed souls", "no", my denial meekly escapes my lips "I have to stop this" I realize, he leans in closer, hovering his face inches from my own "then wake up, Rose". I jolt awake, huffing out laborously, my gaze feveredly flickers about, absorbing my vicinity for comfort, eased by the familiarity of the room, relaxing into the fethered mattress of the bed, I stare up at the wethered ceiling, mind blazing with contemplation of my nightmare, remaining still in order for my heart to retard, I glance down, realizing Newt and me have switched positions, I'm now facing the door with Newt cuddling me close from behind, arms wrapped comfortingly around my body, hands entangled in my own, I detect his steady breathing warming the back of my neck. Although solaced by the steady tune of life gingerly thumping against my back, I remain struck with fear, beginning to understand rest is no longer obtainable, I sigh, unlocking one hand from our coiled mass to rub my lids, privately cursing the Terrors and their ruthless influence, returning my hand to it's prior placement, I latently rub Newt's knuckles, allowing my gaze to be clouded over with thought, why did I dream about that?, I glance down at Newt's calloused fingers, frowning, and why did he say that?, flashes of Newt's frenzied features haunt my rationality. Carefully shifting so that I could be facing Newt, confliction churns my thoughts against each other, a brutal civil war fermenting within, both sides clashing vigoriously against each other, but only one side remains victorious, hesitating momentarily, I arrive at a conclusion, remaining silent for fear I would awake Newt, I conjure up my ability, allowing it to surge beneath my skin, knitting together the very fabric of my being, the very beats of my heart pump my ability through my veins until my entire frame is thriving upon it, I navigate my ability to the ends of my fingers. Recognizing the bright glow of zicrons upon my skin, my ability leaves my tips and enters the skin of Newt, causing the sight of their entry to illuminate moderately, exhaling as I detect my strength deteriorating to my actions, I smile grimly, joyfully allowing a sliver of myself to enter Newt, mutely praying that my actions wouldn't be in vain, but as I allow my ability to deliberately enter Newt, I detect a strange sensation form within the depths of my stomach, causing it to knot with apprehension, I yelp, retracting my hand away from Newt as a boiling sting attacks my finger tips.
Author's info- Hello, reader! Okay. I know this chapter is long over do, but at least I got to publishing it. My gosh life is so unfair and it especially has no mercy for my writing time. Which is bad enough because I have been dying to write and post for the past 6 days that I have taken absence. But at least I finally published, I thought I never would. Now, I know it's too much to ask you if you liked the chapter, because I didn't! Not because I hated my writing or whatever, I actually did decent on this chapter, but because of the amount of torture it is writing Newt as a Crank in Rose's nightmare. Now, I do realize it's not real, but I still have conflicted feelings about this chapter and the next! I just hate to write Newt's worsening condition, but hey, I made a choice, now I have to stick with it. I just hope you guys understand what it is I am trying to do. I hope you guys are enjoying the book! It really is a crime to do character development, but hey, it gives the book meaning, right? Anyway, gotta go, the next chapter won't write itself. See you later reader!
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