Under My Skin
I feel like posting something completely random, so here's some original fiction for the hell of it.
"I… I…" Leon fell to his knees, the blood staining his clothes obscenely, and he found himself unable to breathe - it wasn't supposed to end like this; he wasn't supposed to die here. He had spent years training himself, years training with Enlil, beloved, treasured Enlil, who now lay motionless and bloody only feet away. Before him, there was laughter as Damon stepped closer, his blade held limp at his side as he kneeled and snatched a handful of Leon's silvering red hair.
"You're a weak little fuck, aren't you? You and him both," Damon spat in the general direction of Enlil's body, pulling Leon's head up so that they were eye to eye. His blue eyes gleamed in the half-light of dawn, and the smirk on his face added a new shiver to Leon's body, "Did he really think that you could stop me? A whelp like you? Lilly over there might've stood a chance - if he wasn't so damn busy rescuing you."
He wanted to hurt him. He wanted to rip that smirk off his face, longed to destroy the vile man before him. But he couldn't move; Leon's eyes strayed to the still figure of Enlil, knowing that Damon was right - if only he hadn't come! If only Leon had listened to the warnings, if only he had paid more attention to the dangers. His eyes began to tear, his lips shaking and his breaths becoming even more erratic. Gods, was it because of him that Enlil lay there, wounded... or even dead?
No, Leon saw through his tears as he ripped his eyes back to the still smirking Damon, not dead. Silently, slowly, Enlil had begun to move, and it was everything Leon could do to not cry out to him. Damon, he knew, hadn't noticed yet. A blessing, a rare, but greatly appreciated blessing that forced sobs from Leon's pained body.
"What's the point it crying, you fuck? It's not like it'll do you any - " He stopped, gagged, and dropped Leon to the ground. It was obvious the blond man tried to whip around, but his movement was halted by his own blade protruding from his back. Enlil had moved in quietly, quickly and Damon had been none-the-wiser neither to his movements nor to his intentions. Or, really, even to the fact that the wind manipulator was even still drawing breath, "H-how...? I killed you!"
Enlil was steps away, the wound on his body no longer gaping, but instead superficial, superfluous. "Obviously not." He willed the sword deeper, the air rushing to accept his demand as it twisted the blade in deeper - Damon let out a screeching wail that was nothing short of agonizing. And yet, at the same time, entirely perfect and just. For only a moment, Damon endured the pain. Then, as if he was never there, he vanished from sight.
"I-is he... gone?" Leon whispered, clutching his bleeding stomach tightly - he didn't dare look up at the sure-to-be-angry face of his friend and mentor, and jolted slightly when he felt the man's warm arms wrap around him in a consoling embrace.
"For now; he's gone to lick his wounds, but he'll be back. Let's leave this place and treat your injuries." Enlil's voice was soft, gentle, and every bit the soothing sound it shouldn't have been. He should have been angry, he should have been yelling; he should have been anything but accepting of Leon's foolhardy rush into danger. Instead, the older man simply picked up his larger student as though he was an infant and with a sharp and sudden absence of air, transported them back to the place Leon had grown to call home.
'I must've blacked out.' It was a stray thought, one that Leon knew was entirely useless. Of course he had blacked out. His body had been strained from the wounds, and the sudden jolting and inability to breath had really done a number on his already shocked system. He was grateful, however, for the warmth that surrounded him. The slash along his stomach had been tended to, stitched carefully and by the sting in it, he assumed there was still some alcohol lingering around the edges. Leon lifted a heavy hand beneath the blanket that surrounded him to gently press against the bandages across his abdomen. A jolt of pain ran through him at it, and he gasped, squeezing his already closed eyes tighter shut.
His hand dropped to the sheets next to him. Vague recollections of being put to bed combined with fleeting words that he couldn't recall the sound of flooded him, and he gulped heavily.
He needed to sit up. Suddenly the warmth was too warm, the sheets too comfortable, and Leon slowly, agonizingly dragged himself into a sitting position, his once deeply red hair streaked with silver as the long strands fell over his shoulders, across his face. The cooler air hitting his skin was a blessing, and he let his eyes wander around the room; it wasn't his bedroom. For a long moment, he couldn't exactly place who the room belonged to - it was familiar, but somehow strange all at once.
"I must've lost more blood then I thought." The mage-in-training muttered under his breath, steel eyes taking in his surroundings again, this time more effectively. The walls were painted a soft green colour, relaxing to the eyes, and the room itself was large - the ceiling was easily fifteen feet above him. A large bay window graced the wall to his left, and sunlight streamed through the open window along with the sea-scented breeze of the outside world. There was no need for lights in the room. Leon's eyes were so focused on the window that he barely noticed when Enlil came through the door, a paper bag in one hand and a paper cup in the other. The dark-haired man's expression was largely unreadable, and by the time Leon realized that he wasn't alone in the room any longer, he had already gotten to the over-sized bed - a fact that Leon hadn't noticed immediately.
Enlil placed the bag down on the top cover, but otherwise didn't move as he spoke, "You realize now that you're not ready to fight him."
Leon looked down at his hands, distracting himself with the scars that covered his arms, criss-crossing and at times looking especially nasty. They had been. "Yeah."
"Leon. Look at me." Enlil reached out a hand, the cool appendage lifting Leon's chin and forcing his head around, "You were foolish to go, and you nearly killed the both of us." He released his chin, running newly freed hand through his short brown hair with a sigh, "But I can't deny that, in your shoes, I would have done the same."
The former red-head blinked, focusing his eyes more clearly on his mentor’s face - where a little half-smile rested, "B-but..."
"I'm not condoning your actions, but I'm not condemning them either. You made a mistake. A bad one, but we're both still here to draw breath - and isn't that more important?" As he spoke, he removed the contents of the bag - a stone, a large green one, and handed it to Leon. He didn't say a word about it as he reached for the cup, taking the lid off to reveal... breakfast in a cup? "Keep that. It fell from Damon's pocket not long before he retreated, and I have a feeling it'll come in handy later. As for this... well, we can't have you starving, can we? You know I can't cook, so I requested that Cynthia make you something to eat."
That's when it clicked in Leon's mind, "This is your sister's hotel!"
The laughter that rang from Enlil’s throat made Leon flush - his exclamation was abrupt, and the dark haired man was amused to say the least by the younger man’s antics. “So glad that you noticed; she’s away, however, and is allowing us to stay here until I can reset the barrier around our home. I’m sure you’re disappointed.”
He was, just a little, and he hesitated to admit that. Asherah was possibly one of the most interesting women Leon had ever met; she was beautiful, yes, almost ethereal, but the same features were present in her brother, her twin. What truly amazed Leon about her was her ability to be entirely unpredictable and yet kind. She never failed to have something to say, and often times would pop in simply to say hello or to bring by some trinket or snippet of news from Seaton.
In fact, Leon had met Asherah first. Hard to avoid, of course, being from the same sea-side town - especially considering that Leon’s first job was working for the sea-witch in her hotel. He knew the room because he had been in it many times before - it was part of his job. “So we’re in Seaton.”
Enlil nodded his head, reaching forward and grasping, gently, Leon’s hand, “Yes. We’ll go later… to see your family.”
Leon winced, looking to the window and the morning time blue sky beyond it. He felt the grip on his hand tighten, just for a moment, before he was pulled into a tight embrace. He was glad, grateful for the distraction.
On another, completely unrelated note, I finished the semester with 2 As, 2 Bs, and a C! GO ME! (The C was in College Algebra, and made me heave a sigh of HUGE relief).
"I… I…" Leon fell to his knees, the blood staining his clothes obscenely, and he found himself unable to breathe - it wasn't supposed to end like this; he wasn't supposed to die here. He had spent years training himself, years training with Enlil, beloved, treasured Enlil, who now lay motionless and bloody only feet away. Before him, there was laughter as Damon stepped closer, his blade held limp at his side as he kneeled and snatched a handful of Leon's silvering red hair.
"You're a weak little fuck, aren't you? You and him both," Damon spat in the general direction of Enlil's body, pulling Leon's head up so that they were eye to eye. His blue eyes gleamed in the half-light of dawn, and the smirk on his face added a new shiver to Leon's body, "Did he really think that you could stop me? A whelp like you? Lilly over there might've stood a chance - if he wasn't so damn busy rescuing you."
He wanted to hurt him. He wanted to rip that smirk off his face, longed to destroy the vile man before him. But he couldn't move; Leon's eyes strayed to the still figure of Enlil, knowing that Damon was right - if only he hadn't come! If only Leon had listened to the warnings, if only he had paid more attention to the dangers. His eyes began to tear, his lips shaking and his breaths becoming even more erratic. Gods, was it because of him that Enlil lay there, wounded... or even dead?
No, Leon saw through his tears as he ripped his eyes back to the still smirking Damon, not dead. Silently, slowly, Enlil had begun to move, and it was everything Leon could do to not cry out to him. Damon, he knew, hadn't noticed yet. A blessing, a rare, but greatly appreciated blessing that forced sobs from Leon's pained body.
"What's the point it crying, you fuck? It's not like it'll do you any - " He stopped, gagged, and dropped Leon to the ground. It was obvious the blond man tried to whip around, but his movement was halted by his own blade protruding from his back. Enlil had moved in quietly, quickly and Damon had been none-the-wiser neither to his movements nor to his intentions. Or, really, even to the fact that the wind manipulator was even still drawing breath, "H-how...? I killed you!"
Enlil was steps away, the wound on his body no longer gaping, but instead superficial, superfluous. "Obviously not." He willed the sword deeper, the air rushing to accept his demand as it twisted the blade in deeper - Damon let out a screeching wail that was nothing short of agonizing. And yet, at the same time, entirely perfect and just. For only a moment, Damon endured the pain. Then, as if he was never there, he vanished from sight.
"I-is he... gone?" Leon whispered, clutching his bleeding stomach tightly - he didn't dare look up at the sure-to-be-angry face of his friend and mentor, and jolted slightly when he felt the man's warm arms wrap around him in a consoling embrace.
"For now; he's gone to lick his wounds, but he'll be back. Let's leave this place and treat your injuries." Enlil's voice was soft, gentle, and every bit the soothing sound it shouldn't have been. He should have been angry, he should have been yelling; he should have been anything but accepting of Leon's foolhardy rush into danger. Instead, the older man simply picked up his larger student as though he was an infant and with a sharp and sudden absence of air, transported them back to the place Leon had grown to call home.
'I must've blacked out.' It was a stray thought, one that Leon knew was entirely useless. Of course he had blacked out. His body had been strained from the wounds, and the sudden jolting and inability to breath had really done a number on his already shocked system. He was grateful, however, for the warmth that surrounded him. The slash along his stomach had been tended to, stitched carefully and by the sting in it, he assumed there was still some alcohol lingering around the edges. Leon lifted a heavy hand beneath the blanket that surrounded him to gently press against the bandages across his abdomen. A jolt of pain ran through him at it, and he gasped, squeezing his already closed eyes tighter shut.
His hand dropped to the sheets next to him. Vague recollections of being put to bed combined with fleeting words that he couldn't recall the sound of flooded him, and he gulped heavily.
He needed to sit up. Suddenly the warmth was too warm, the sheets too comfortable, and Leon slowly, agonizingly dragged himself into a sitting position, his once deeply red hair streaked with silver as the long strands fell over his shoulders, across his face. The cooler air hitting his skin was a blessing, and he let his eyes wander around the room; it wasn't his bedroom. For a long moment, he couldn't exactly place who the room belonged to - it was familiar, but somehow strange all at once.
"I must've lost more blood then I thought." The mage-in-training muttered under his breath, steel eyes taking in his surroundings again, this time more effectively. The walls were painted a soft green colour, relaxing to the eyes, and the room itself was large - the ceiling was easily fifteen feet above him. A large bay window graced the wall to his left, and sunlight streamed through the open window along with the sea-scented breeze of the outside world. There was no need for lights in the room. Leon's eyes were so focused on the window that he barely noticed when Enlil came through the door, a paper bag in one hand and a paper cup in the other. The dark-haired man's expression was largely unreadable, and by the time Leon realized that he wasn't alone in the room any longer, he had already gotten to the over-sized bed - a fact that Leon hadn't noticed immediately.
Enlil placed the bag down on the top cover, but otherwise didn't move as he spoke, "You realize now that you're not ready to fight him."
Leon looked down at his hands, distracting himself with the scars that covered his arms, criss-crossing and at times looking especially nasty. They had been. "Yeah."
"Leon. Look at me." Enlil reached out a hand, the cool appendage lifting Leon's chin and forcing his head around, "You were foolish to go, and you nearly killed the both of us." He released his chin, running newly freed hand through his short brown hair with a sigh, "But I can't deny that, in your shoes, I would have done the same."
The former red-head blinked, focusing his eyes more clearly on his mentor’s face - where a little half-smile rested, "B-but..."
"I'm not condoning your actions, but I'm not condemning them either. You made a mistake. A bad one, but we're both still here to draw breath - and isn't that more important?" As he spoke, he removed the contents of the bag - a stone, a large green one, and handed it to Leon. He didn't say a word about it as he reached for the cup, taking the lid off to reveal... breakfast in a cup? "Keep that. It fell from Damon's pocket not long before he retreated, and I have a feeling it'll come in handy later. As for this... well, we can't have you starving, can we? You know I can't cook, so I requested that Cynthia make you something to eat."
That's when it clicked in Leon's mind, "This is your sister's hotel!"
The laughter that rang from Enlil’s throat made Leon flush - his exclamation was abrupt, and the dark haired man was amused to say the least by the younger man’s antics. “So glad that you noticed; she’s away, however, and is allowing us to stay here until I can reset the barrier around our home. I’m sure you’re disappointed.”
He was, just a little, and he hesitated to admit that. Asherah was possibly one of the most interesting women Leon had ever met; she was beautiful, yes, almost ethereal, but the same features were present in her brother, her twin. What truly amazed Leon about her was her ability to be entirely unpredictable and yet kind. She never failed to have something to say, and often times would pop in simply to say hello or to bring by some trinket or snippet of news from Seaton.
In fact, Leon had met Asherah first. Hard to avoid, of course, being from the same sea-side town - especially considering that Leon’s first job was working for the sea-witch in her hotel. He knew the room because he had been in it many times before - it was part of his job. “So we’re in Seaton.”
Enlil nodded his head, reaching forward and grasping, gently, Leon’s hand, “Yes. We’ll go later… to see your family.”
Leon winced, looking to the window and the morning time blue sky beyond it. He felt the grip on his hand tighten, just for a moment, before he was pulled into a tight embrace. He was glad, grateful for the distraction.
On another, completely unrelated note, I finished the semester with 2 As, 2 Bs, and a C! GO ME! (The C was in College Algebra, and made me heave a sigh of HUGE relief).