Of Cynics and Attraction [Bittersteel/Damon/Quentyn]
Nov 24, 2017 14:28:14 GMT -5
Post by Tom on Nov 24, 2017 14:28:14 GMT -5
Quentyn Blackburn
Cynics with lust on their breath about girls. Words spoken about girls who are considered attractive, or maybe not, you couldn't tell anyways. Attraction was never in your blood, unless it was to a silver sword or the wounds of an enemy. Love was a common word used in your life, even though you didn't ever have it. Love. Lust. You never understood them. Normal in every way, you just preferred to smile them off with friendly talk and good swordplay.
You never understood the idea of love and lust for anyone. An interest that never presented itself to you in your head. Late nights of whispers, heated passion, and loving moments weren't meant for you. You carry the blade of the Golden Pack on your back everywhere that you happen to go. A trainer, a friend, and the charity case of it. People said every name that they could come up with to your face. Words that graze the skin with wounds, but nothings gets to you. Bashing heads instead of taking the things people said.
You knew that you could beat any one of them in a match.
Fears ruins through their veins, but not your friends. That's why you stuck with them. Loyalty in everything like a knight that watches over them. A sword that would throw himself into the heat of a battle in order for them to live. Blind. That's what Bloodraven said you were. A blind dog that follows his master's feet looking for scraps of what he could get. There's no point in denying it to Bloodraven, all that would have done was lead to more mocking words that you have no time for.
Minutes of words about pretty girls that doesn't do anything, but annoy you in the end. Your blade sheathed at your side as it doesn't leave your side ever, looks so comfortable, unlike how you feel. Skin crawling with chills that glides across your spine as it reaches your head in a small headache. A pounding in your head that bugs you to your core because do they ever shut their mouths or change the subject. That answer was no. They don't stop, unless you speak up about it.
"Shouldn't we be doing something else besides gossiping about girls?"
A moment of silent as the air thickens for a moment with worry underneath your skin. Only for a moment you feel like this, then it's free. A light weight off your chest for the moment as you roll your eyes at them and give them a small smile. Friends. They were all friends, even if they got to a point of driving you mad with talks of girls and other things that related back to it. Lust was the driving factor in life, even if you don't feel it. They still do. Father would have told you to man up and endure the annoyance, but they were your friends. Friends don't have to endure things.
Unless it was Bloodraven and his obnoxious group of nobodies.
They deserved whatever they got from us. You've never been hateful towards a person, until the day that you met the guy with rolling eyes and poison on his tongue. Everything seemed to change, including your friends. You don't talk about it though, only the hatred all of us have for him. You turn to look at Damon and then to Aegor like you're annoyed, but also trying to be a good friend. If interrupting a good conversation about girls was possibly a good thing, after all you didn't know the rules that were meant to be, but you always were a rule breaker.
You knew that the silence was getting obnoxious. Instead of leaving it barren, you jokingly let the words fall from your mouth.
"Before you even ask, no. I don't like anyone."
A smile plastered across your face as you watch them carefully.
Girls. It always came back to girls and Bloodraven.
You still wouldn't change it for anything else.
After all, your friends are your family.
Nothing could ever change that.