~ INDEFINITE HIATUS ~
NOTE: This is a very old story! I will no longer be updating it as I have lost interest in the writing, but I won't be deleting it just yet.
lim • er • ence ( n )
the state of being infatuated with another person, typically ex...
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*** u n e d i t e d ***
CHAPTER SIX✿
✿The Reveries
Mature Themes Ahead ~ Be Wary
✿✿✿
"You're upset. Somebody's said something - what did they say? Tell me."
How he had sensed the trembling within Credence's mind was beyond the boy, but his words were no less a rope drawing him from his own wretched darkness.
That damned bastard. Senator was a scoffed statement for such vile behavior. He remembered the man's hot breath in his face, broad shoulders set strongly in a sense of false pride. Pride, he could tell by his exiting swagger that the son of a bitch was proud for asserting his dominance over a lesser being. A blasphemer's wordless son. A freak.
The boy wanted so badly to be angry, but he could not.
The words had bit into him like shards of glass, and the pain of his wounds created a sorrow, a complete misery. Someone was writing stygian slurs along his pale skin, carving them like hellish runes and watching the threads of his black blood drip down, down, down ...
He was drowning in it, the blackness. He could feel within the ivory bones beneath his flesh. Churning, tearing away at what wove him together. His poor patchwork heart was falling apart.
Tell me.
But there was a rope.
"... Do you think I'm a freak?"
His own voice, soft and timid, had asked the words not minutes ago from the man named Percival Graves, and they seemed to chase him along with the man's answer. He waited on the precipice of his darkness, and he was frozen in the moment before it would swallow him whole.
"No - I think you're a very special young man, or I wouldn't have asked you to help me, now would I?"
Graves's beguiling answer had pulled him out of the somber, starless sea. He was not suffocating any longer in his own violent, seething gloom; even if the shadow remained, it remained quiet, for the moment, under the boy's sudden ease.
And it took to waiting.
Credence remembered the darkly-clad man's hand, strong but clement, against his lanky arm - a strange surprise, but a comforting one. He was not one for touch, per say. It brought back memories that were only distasteful, and he disliked them oh-so-much. But this touch was different, for it offered what he desired.
