in the night — inbox.

[hext]

WANDA MAXIMOFF
username: witch
age: 27
(the invincible, rm 303)

ＣＡＬＬ ✖ ＴＥＸＴ
ＶＩＤＥＯ ✖ ＡＣＴＩＯＮ

Comments

[evulsed]

[ So much of it he can't understand, and simply because he has no barometer with which to measure it against. Grief for another person, that warm sensation of wanting to keep someone from harm— it crawls all over him. Like the sluice of gentle water, and then like a thousand spiders, and then back again. She pieces through his darkness like there's nothing to be afraid of, like it isn't as abrasive and harsh as the desert he'd been forged in.

He's embarrassed, and uncomfortable, and without his defense ripped down as it had been in the church, it makes him recoil internally. He can't do what she does, he has no grasp of what a mental wall would be to try and protect himself from what she could know about him. Every emotion rolls through him with all the violence of a hurricane.

He holds her gaze, his defensiveness bleeding into aggression. It seems for all the world that he might just hit her to make her back off.

Finally, Vanitas gives. Not by stepping away, but by cutting his eyes to the side, a dog losing a staring contest, conceding the power to his Master. Instead, he looks at the dark outline of the town, cast into relief by the bonfire he can't see from where they stand. ]

What's the big deal? Death isn't permanent around here, anyway.

And that little girl isn't what she seems.