"Why do you hate me so much?" The words blurted out of my mouth before I could stop them. Damn mead. Vilkas frowned at me over his bottle, eyes shadowed and expressionless, "Why do you think that I hate you?" "Umm, because you've barely spoken to me since I joined, not that you wanted me to join in the first place, you always take one of the others out with you on quests instead of me, you give me the easiest tasks that are as far away from Jorrvaskr as possible and you all but accused me of failing Kodlak. And that, by the way, bloody hurts-" "I don't hate you." "What?" "I. Don't. Hate. You." His teeth were audibly grinding together after each word and he sounded, well, like he was being forced to admit something he really didn't want to. I swung my bare legs off the bed so that I was facing him, face twisting with incredulity. He sighed and put his book on the tiny table wedged between our beds and sat up so he mirrored me, knees almost touching. "You've more than proven yourself. If I didn't think that I wouldn't have asked you to come here with me. As for the rest-" He trailed off and gazed off out the window and the thickening snow. "As for the rest what?" My voice, when I finally found it, came out unusually quiet. And my heart was racing. Vilkas glanced back at me and our eyes locked. "You call out to the beast inside me. I can even smell your heart beating in your chest. Every time I'm near you I feel like I'm about to lose control." "Oh." I didn't know what else to say. In a way I understood Vilkas far better than perhaps the others could. I knew that out of all the Circle Vilkas struggled the most with the call of the blood and had struggled with the burden the longest. Farkas was far too happy-go-lucky to truly give in to the darker urges that I had felt since turning and Aela was far too disciplined to lose control. Both Vilkas and I relied on being wild and unpredictable in a fight, prepared to do whatever was necessary in order to survive and the beast-blood thrived on that darkness. I had been finding it hard enough and I had only been a werewolf for less than two months. So the fact that I was making it worse for him, in any way, even from what could only be sheer annoyance, made me feel awful. "I'm sorry." He shrugged, still looking out the window, "Not your fault." I could see the toll the struggle was taking on him in his eyes, knew what it looked like because I saw it in my mirror every damn day. And I wanted to take it away. So I did the most stupid thing I could think of. I kissed him.
Re: Clear Skies 5/7
Date: 2013-05-03 10:10 pm (UTC)"Umm, because you've barely spoken to me since I joined, not that you wanted me to join in the first place, you always take one of the others out with you on quests instead of me, you give me the easiest tasks that are as far away from Jorrvaskr as possible and you all but accused me of failing Kodlak. And that, by the way, bloody hurts-"
"I don't hate you."
"What?"
"I. Don't. Hate. You." His teeth were audibly grinding together after each word and he sounded, well, like he was being forced to admit something he really didn't want to. I swung my bare legs off the bed so that I was facing him, face twisting with incredulity. He sighed and put his book on the tiny table wedged between our beds and sat up so he mirrored me, knees almost touching. "You've more than proven yourself. If I didn't think that I wouldn't have asked you to come here with me. As for the rest-" He trailed off and gazed off out the window and the thickening snow.
"As for the rest what?" My voice, when I finally found it, came out unusually quiet. And my heart was racing. Vilkas glanced back at me and our eyes locked.
"You call out to the beast inside me. I can even smell your heart beating in your chest. Every time I'm near you I feel like I'm about to lose control."
"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. In a way I understood Vilkas far better than perhaps the others could. I knew that out of all the Circle Vilkas struggled the most with the call of the blood and had struggled with the burden the longest. Farkas was far too happy-go-lucky to truly give in to the darker urges that I had felt since turning and Aela was far too disciplined to lose control. Both Vilkas and I relied on being wild and unpredictable in a fight, prepared to do whatever was necessary in order to survive and the beast-blood thrived on that darkness. I had been finding it hard enough and I had only been a werewolf for less than two months. So the fact that I was making it worse for him, in any way, even from what could only be sheer annoyance, made me feel awful. "I'm sorry."
He shrugged, still looking out the window, "Not your fault."
I could see the toll the struggle was taking on him in his eyes, knew what it looked like because I saw it in my mirror every damn day. And I wanted to take it away. So I did the most stupid thing I could think of. I kissed him.