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Fading away (narrative)
The sheets were far too cold this morning.
Logan inhaled a long, drawn out snap of air and released it just as heavily. Her scents filled him completely and warned his skin more than his blood ever could. Giselle. There was something about her, about that untouched innocence that Logan adored. He didn't let himself fall for anyone so easily, it had taken him a good while to come around to committing to Giselle. How she had managed to tether him to her, he wasn't sure. And he definitely didn't mind. Everything about her was pure gold, her smile was the best part and her laugh came second - a music all on its own with an enchanting sound that captivated his interest instantly. He only ever wanted to keep her happy, to make her promises he could keep.
The idea that she could vanish never crossed his mind. Logan was fully aware that Giselle missed her home, that people came and went here, and that somehow they all managed to cope with the ever unstable terrain. But, selfishly, Logan never guessed it could happen to him.
A shift and Logan's palm glanced the wrinkled sheets of his bed. He buried his face in to his pillow, flexing his fingers against the cloth that was void of body heat.
Curious, the man opened his eyes and tilted his head so he could glance over at her side. Instantly, upon not finding her there where she usually was at this hour, Logan's heart began to race. His ears listened for any small sound of motion, any light footsteps, any humming...any heartbeats...the cabin was void of human sounds. He could hear the structure's natural sounds, the soft groans and creaks, but no familiar human noises.
That struck him as odd.
Frowning, Logan slid out of the bed, pulled on decent clothes that he'd cast off the evening before when everything had been right, and headed for the kitchen. There was no coffee brewing. No breakfast being made. Odd. It was odd.
With a grunt, Logan sniffed the air and found her scent there. It was faded, like scents normally can be, but he could still pick up on it. Eagerly, Logan tracked it outside, following the steadily fading aroma of his heart. In town, he found no trace of her. It was far too early in the morning for any of the shops to be open for business, and anything that was open smelled wrong.
He searched the City, tracking the scent back to the cabin.
Just as he had left it, no lights were on. No smoke cascading from the chimney he'd constructed with his own hands. Nothing.
His shoulders slumped. And then out came the claws. In a flash of fury and rage, teeth and roars of heartbreak and pain, Logan tore the cabin apart bit by bit, nail by nail. He destroyed it, the Berserker taking over easily. When the cabin was entirely demolished, the surrounding trees sitting in various stages of chips, leaving naught but the foundation did Logan stop. He closed his eyes, retracted his claws and sank to his knees amidst the splinters.
Today was not going to be a very good day.
Logan inhaled a long, drawn out snap of air and released it just as heavily. Her scents filled him completely and warned his skin more than his blood ever could. Giselle. There was something about her, about that untouched innocence that Logan adored. He didn't let himself fall for anyone so easily, it had taken him a good while to come around to committing to Giselle. How she had managed to tether him to her, he wasn't sure. And he definitely didn't mind. Everything about her was pure gold, her smile was the best part and her laugh came second - a music all on its own with an enchanting sound that captivated his interest instantly. He only ever wanted to keep her happy, to make her promises he could keep.
The idea that she could vanish never crossed his mind. Logan was fully aware that Giselle missed her home, that people came and went here, and that somehow they all managed to cope with the ever unstable terrain. But, selfishly, Logan never guessed it could happen to him.
A shift and Logan's palm glanced the wrinkled sheets of his bed. He buried his face in to his pillow, flexing his fingers against the cloth that was void of body heat.
Curious, the man opened his eyes and tilted his head so he could glance over at her side. Instantly, upon not finding her there where she usually was at this hour, Logan's heart began to race. His ears listened for any small sound of motion, any light footsteps, any humming...any heartbeats...the cabin was void of human sounds. He could hear the structure's natural sounds, the soft groans and creaks, but no familiar human noises.
That struck him as odd.
Frowning, Logan slid out of the bed, pulled on decent clothes that he'd cast off the evening before when everything had been right, and headed for the kitchen. There was no coffee brewing. No breakfast being made. Odd. It was odd.
With a grunt, Logan sniffed the air and found her scent there. It was faded, like scents normally can be, but he could still pick up on it. Eagerly, Logan tracked it outside, following the steadily fading aroma of his heart. In town, he found no trace of her. It was far too early in the morning for any of the shops to be open for business, and anything that was open smelled wrong.
He searched the City, tracking the scent back to the cabin.
Just as he had left it, no lights were on. No smoke cascading from the chimney he'd constructed with his own hands. Nothing.
His shoulders slumped. And then out came the claws. In a flash of fury and rage, teeth and roars of heartbreak and pain, Logan tore the cabin apart bit by bit, nail by nail. He destroyed it, the Berserker taking over easily. When the cabin was entirely demolished, the surrounding trees sitting in various stages of chips, leaving naught but the foundation did Logan stop. He closed his eyes, retracted his claws and sank to his knees amidst the splinters.
Today was not going to be a very good day.