‹ Prequel: Angel Moon
Risen Moon
Star Whisperer
BELLE
Sat quietly with him in his dark room as he paced, frustrated and annoyed with himself. He'd nearly just killed a man, he was obviously stressed. He'd stormed in, splashing water over his face to cool the sun's burns, and started to feel the heat so intensely that he just tore his shirt off. Frustration mounting again, he'd taken up pacing and letting out annoyed grunts, occasionally punching the walls. It was a bad place to probably mention it but he was attractive when he was angry. I sat silently, waiting for him to calm down so I could talk to him. After an hour or so he just sat on the floor, legs crossed, facing the wall and scratching patterns into the soft plaster with his nails. He sighed, resting his forehead against the cool wall as he finally came to a stop, sitting still and silent.
"I'm sorry." he whimpered, like an apologetic child. Tears again, still slightly stained grey, but they got better, like ink running clear from water.
"You can't help it." I murmured, not nearing him until he wanted it. He had a new temper now that I didn't want to get on the wrong side of. I didn't believe that he'd hurt me of his own will, but his Mr Hyde might not see it that way. A quiet whine, gently, weakly, smacking his fist against the wall. "You don't know how strong you are right now."
"I've wanted strength all my life. Now I have it I'd rather die than unleash it." he spat, getting tense again, an almost inhuman feeling to his voice that burned with hate. He froze once more, realising how he sounded. "Oh Belle." he whimpered, collapsing against the wall in defeat.
"Do you want me?" I said quietly. This was our code now for when he felt it was safe enough for me to be near him, or when he felt he needed my help. He didn't want to say as such, but make the intention clear. He nodded, curled up crying in the corner, his cries nearly howls that gave an edge to his misery. I walked over to him from the bed, where I'd been sat for a long while, and knelt opposite him. He scrambled over to me, crying on my shoulder and shaking with sobs. Mother hen mode kicked in here. Hell, before this I didn't even know I had a mother hen mode. Trying to soothe, I stroked his hair, shushing him until he quietened and cried silently, saving us both a head ache. He calmed down quickly, stopping crying all together soon after. His tears had began to run clear again, and he'd noticed. He smiled faintly as a tear dripped from the edge of his nose, running down his arm.
"See? You're getting better." I murmured, and he looked up at me, worry and innocence and terror all mixed up in his eyes. I felt it too, and felt the creepy feeling in the pit of my stomach that I just wanted to go away. I'd had to run back here with the brothers before I knew what had happened. Logan might have died. The man who I thought of as my dad. I should have stayed, tried to defend him, at least stop them fighting. I should have done something, anything. I had no idea what was going on, but it was bad. It was bad enough for them to start trying to kill each other. What had she done?
"I know you're worried about him, I'm sorry." He whispered, and took up my role of reassurance, and held me in his arms as I cried.
Sat quietly with him in his dark room as he paced, frustrated and annoyed with himself. He'd nearly just killed a man, he was obviously stressed. He'd stormed in, splashing water over his face to cool the sun's burns, and started to feel the heat so intensely that he just tore his shirt off. Frustration mounting again, he'd taken up pacing and letting out annoyed grunts, occasionally punching the walls. It was a bad place to probably mention it but he was attractive when he was angry. I sat silently, waiting for him to calm down so I could talk to him. After an hour or so he just sat on the floor, legs crossed, facing the wall and scratching patterns into the soft plaster with his nails. He sighed, resting his forehead against the cool wall as he finally came to a stop, sitting still and silent.
"I'm sorry." he whimpered, like an apologetic child. Tears again, still slightly stained grey, but they got better, like ink running clear from water.
"You can't help it." I murmured, not nearing him until he wanted it. He had a new temper now that I didn't want to get on the wrong side of. I didn't believe that he'd hurt me of his own will, but his Mr Hyde might not see it that way. A quiet whine, gently, weakly, smacking his fist against the wall. "You don't know how strong you are right now."
"I've wanted strength all my life. Now I have it I'd rather die than unleash it." he spat, getting tense again, an almost inhuman feeling to his voice that burned with hate. He froze once more, realising how he sounded. "Oh Belle." he whimpered, collapsing against the wall in defeat.
"Do you want me?" I said quietly. This was our code now for when he felt it was safe enough for me to be near him, or when he felt he needed my help. He didn't want to say as such, but make the intention clear. He nodded, curled up crying in the corner, his cries nearly howls that gave an edge to his misery. I walked over to him from the bed, where I'd been sat for a long while, and knelt opposite him. He scrambled over to me, crying on my shoulder and shaking with sobs. Mother hen mode kicked in here. Hell, before this I didn't even know I had a mother hen mode. Trying to soothe, I stroked his hair, shushing him until he quietened and cried silently, saving us both a head ache. He calmed down quickly, stopping crying all together soon after. His tears had began to run clear again, and he'd noticed. He smiled faintly as a tear dripped from the edge of his nose, running down his arm.
"See? You're getting better." I murmured, and he looked up at me, worry and innocence and terror all mixed up in his eyes. I felt it too, and felt the creepy feeling in the pit of my stomach that I just wanted to go away. I'd had to run back here with the brothers before I knew what had happened. Logan might have died. The man who I thought of as my dad. I should have stayed, tried to defend him, at least stop them fighting. I should have done something, anything. I had no idea what was going on, but it was bad. It was bad enough for them to start trying to kill each other. What had she done?
"I know you're worried about him, I'm sorry." He whispered, and took up my role of reassurance, and held me in his arms as I cried.