Chocolate
Fallen
Ashes Ashes We all fall down
Posts: 102
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Post by Chocolate on Feb 13, 2011 1:29:29 GMT
Nala
She sat down on the ground, her arms crossed, slightly pouting. She glared off into the distance. She hated when people talked about her. She looked like a little kid who is mad becuase she got in trouble.
She sighed, uncrossing her legs and pulled them up, wrapping her arms around them, burying her chin into her knees, lost in her train of thought.
The same question that has been running through her mind came to the center of attention. Who am I? The question repeated itself like a broken record player. Who am I? Who am I? She sighed, biting her lower lip in concentration.
She let them talk now, not really caring what they said, as long as they left her some peace, if only for a few seconds. Sometimes it felt as if she was screaming at the top of her lungs in a crowd and noone bothered to give her a second glance. She felt unheard.
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Post by Bogwoppit on Feb 14, 2011 19:57:36 GMT
and you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness[/font][/color][/size] Joshua was relieved beyond imagining to hear that Raphael was going to take over from him... not because he wanted to get away from Nala though. On the contrary, he felt a great need to make her better, to cure her of whatever ailed her. Maybe he should have been one of Raphael's Cherubim rather than Uriel's guardian angels... but then, he would miss going down to Earth, and all the great people he had helped there. No, he was relieved because he really was late, and Raphael was right when he said a certain archangel would not be very happy to find him still in Heaven.
He couldn't help feeling empathy though for a fellow angel in distress, just as he would feel for any human who he saw needed help. But right now he really was due downstairs, so with a nod of thanks to Raphael he turned to say goodbye to Nala.
"You're in good hands," he smiled down at her, for a moment wndering if there was something wrong with her legs... she always seemed to be collapsing onto the floor... "I'll see you again soon I hope."
He graced her with a dimpled, boyish grin, punched her gently on the shoulder in a friendly gesture, and left her in the capable hands of the healer.
Taking care not to run... Uriel frowned upon that sort of lack of discipline... he walked as briskly as he could away from the strangely matched couple, and as soon as was acceptable he took off, heading for Earth.
but i promise you you'll see the sun again[/center]
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Post by snow on Feb 15, 2011 22:29:59 GMT
i make no promises Now that the guardian angel had gone, Raphael reverted fully into his healer’s mindset. He did not even look up as Joshua turned the corner, Nala central to his attention once again. He had to admit, she looked better than she had. The cherubim had that effect on everyone. He had probably seen her torment and ached to fill the hole. It was why they were perfect for tending to the wounded. Personally, Raphael found that the Seraphim came with an air of doom. It was probably his imagination, associating them with disaster on sight. When the Seraphim start to move, it generally meant somebody was going to get hurt. That meant he had to be ready for the inevitable casualties. Even if it was on the human world, there was usually at least one of the cherubim near enough to suffer. Michael could look after himself, which was good, considering his reputed recklessness. Archangels rarely needed healing, but when they did, it was a serious job. Speaking of which… He smiled to himself, extending a hand to help her up. He had no idea why she was on the floor, but it didn’t matter. “I hope you’re not too tired to try some arts and crafts,” he said cheerfully. “We’re going to find out how you best express yourself.” They would head back to his office and he would grab whatever materials came first to hand. The process was hit-and-miss, unless she had any predetermined preferences. A little of his enthusiasm leaked into his tone. It was always a discovery, sometimes even to the angel themselves that doing this or making that relieved their heavy hearts. Raphael dedicated himself to drawing whenever there were too many negative emotions built up inside him. He wasn’t all that talented and did nothing especially impressive, but he understood and experienced first-hand the benefits of the therapy. It was a release, a valve, a coping method. Without it, the emotions would build into impulsiveness or self-hatred or rage, a power explosive or, worse still, implosive. The latter reactions were the ones harder to predict. The ones that hid and pretended. Raphael was an exploder. If pressed into a decision, he would guess that Michael, Sariel and Uriel would usually implode, though Gabriel was, as always, a mystery, as was Nala. He hoped he never had to confirm for any of them. It was a messy thing to happen, and it was always a trial for everybody to pick up the fragments of the aftermath.
neither false nor uncertain
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Chocolate
Fallen
Ashes Ashes We all fall down
Posts: 102
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Post by Chocolate on Feb 15, 2011 23:47:04 GMT
Nala
She watched as Joshua left, at a quick pace. The small fact amused her, another detail she could figure out about others. A limp when they walk, how there eyes seem to move around the room. The tiny details in angels lives.
Why is it No matter how hard I try.
She smiled slightly, but soon stopped when Raphael extended his hand toward the arch-angel. She glared at it. Why does everyone insist on helping me, or tripping over me for that matter? She thought dryly, trying to get over the fact on how small she was.
She stood up, wobbling slightly, before slinging her hands into her pockets, almost carelessly. How much Nala wanted to be kind to Raphael, or to anyone really, but her attitude and years of hiding the real Nala won over. She crossed her arms. "Okay," She said, wincing internally on how rude she sounded. Why couldn't she be kind for once? Oh yea, because she was Nala and no matter how hard she tried no one would care.
Maybe a few angels could prove her wrong. Some showed kindness to her. Now it seemed like they only gave her sympathy, a feeling that Nala hated. 'I want someone to notice me, not sympathize.' She thought to herself. Sympathy, Nala hated the way they looked at her,as if she was a lost puppy dog, trying to find her way back to the owner. At least on the human world she was ignored, left alone with her thoughts. Like anyone gave a damn about what happened to her down on the streets, they were too busy fighting for there own lives to care about a girl with nasty wounds.
She began to become distracted, lost in the thoughts of her mind. How ironic, that now, in all times she couldn't show a simple act of kindness. The instincts run too deep. She sighed, her toe tapping slightly.
Nala looked off at the sky, the sky was fading behind the clouds, leaving behind a rainbow of colors, Nala smiled, too distracted to realize that Raphael was still there. She soon turned to face the sunset completly. "It's so pretty." She almost whispered, in awe of its beauty.
I can't find the real me.
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Post by snow on Feb 24, 2011 2:11:06 GMT
my outstretched hand Was there something wrong with his hand? Raphael wondered. Perhaps Nala had something against them. Or hands in general. It was possible that it was a result of her experiences, but until he could investigate further, he filed it under her pride. It didn’t really matter. He would keep trying, with the amiable persistence of a friendly dog. He was never one to be perturbed by hostility, and besides, he genuinely liked Nala. Surprisingly, the more she pushed him away, the more he enjoyed reaching out to her. He hadn’t found that with other awkward patients. They were usually just frustrating. Nala wasn’t quite the same. She was closed, but vulnerable; prideful, yet self-deprecating. Intriguing. And, of course, he had to and wanted to help her. They began to walk, as the white passages took on the warm, surreal glow of sunset. She slowed and then halted to observe, which he had expected, recalling that she liked them. He smiled to himself as she whispered her wonder. It was moments like those that offset her constant brush offs, that gave him a glimpse under her normal front. Somewhere inside, he was certain that there was more than her coldness. She had already proved she had fire, and you didn’t get fire without a bit of warmth. He stood unobtrusively behind her as she watched, contemplating the sunset’s significance. A transition of day into night, of sun into stars, and a splash of colour across the sky, great streaks of it like a painting where the colours have run. Only at sunrise and sunset, he realised, was the sky a warm colour. He turned his mind to practical connotations. Sunsets were striking visually, bright and vivid, and appealed to the eyes rather than the other senses. That meant painting would be a good place to start with the expressive guidance and visual mediums were probably her preference. Once the sky had darkened into dusk, he began walking again, keeping silent so as not to ruin that moment of sweetness. When they got back to his office, he deemed it necessary to speak, and went straight to the back of the room, throwing open his ‘store cupboard’. Though he called it a cupboard, it was actually a smaller room adjoined to his office by a single white door, hard for the untrained eye to spot against the bleached walls. Inside was a neatly ordered array of everything he had ever had to use in expressive guidance, as well as all the surgical and medicinal equipment he would need in most situations. Today he went straight for the paints, chatting amicably all the while to keep Nala informed. “We’ll start off with some painting, unless you have anything you think you’d prefer? Anything goes,” he paused, “as long as it’s constructive.” He remembered to add that phrase, as there had been a few extremely awkward situations where his words had been taken the wrong way. Still, he was used to being mistaken for a flirt… He emerged from the cupboard, paints in one hand, brushes in the other, a wad of thick paper tucked under his arm, animated and upbeat. “Any thoughts?”
will never be withdrawn
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Chocolate
Fallen
Ashes Ashes We all fall down
Posts: 102
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Post by Chocolate on Feb 24, 2011 2:36:34 GMT
Nala
Sometimes it only takes some paint and a little bit of imagination.
Nala looked at the paints and paper. A wide smile came across her face, almost as if she was a little kid on Christmas morning, opening up a present that she had wanted for so long. She quickly reached out to grab the paints, choosing the warmest brightest colors, such as Orange, Maroon, Yellow, Gold, Red and the light up-beat colors like a light shade of pink, and a vibrant white. She also reached for Dark gray and Black.
Finally Nala replied. "I think, I have an idea." She said, still smiling. Her rough exterior seemed to dissolve in the presence of the tools, dissipating like the paint would when in contact with water.
She took the paper, setting it carefully on a table. Nala chose a thick paintbrush, completely oblivious that Raphael was still there. Maybe it was from so many years of painting, or just habit, she carefully looked over the paints once more, making sure they were all there.
Nala carefully dipped the paint in dark gray, painting square blocks at the bottom of the paper, some were bigger than others. Nala smiled at the design, dipping her paintbrush in water and picking out a black, painting in small black boxes inside the gray ones, resembling windows. Nala nodded to herself when she was somewhat satisfied with the bottom, picking up the orange, streaking it across the top, and added some yellow, light pink and a few hints of red. The top now resembled a sunset, without clouds. Nala frowned forgetting the small detail, she carefully dipped the paint in white, and brushed it onto the paper, leaving big white fluffy clouds. Nala smiled.
"This is one of my favorite scenes. It's my first memory from when I woke up on earth. The sun was setting and it was so beautiful." She said pointing to the bright yellow circle, resembling the sun. "The image has been stuck in my head ever since." She whispered, gesturing to the entire painting, staring at it.
Nala looked down at her white shirt, which was now covered with orange and black paint splotches. She made a note to herself to find her other clothing.
Her smile slowly faded, almost as if Nala was climbing back into her protective shell, still trying to keep everyone at bay. Her hand fell limply to her side as Nala stared at her painting.
To expose the Real me.
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Post by snow on Feb 26, 2011 20:54:20 GMT
I will reach you He watched her paint without interrupting, as the scene came to life under her brush, glad that she had taken the initiative and had been eager to begin. Enthusiasm showed enjoyment, which meant she would be happy to do this as many times as he required. She was a better artist than him, he noted good-naturedly, not that it required a lot of talent to best him. The bright colours suited her as a person, and the image was just what he would expect after watching such a vivid real sunset. Its significance as her first memory made it all the more important, and he was glad that she had mentioned it. It seemed she had positive memories as well as unpleasant ones, and she clearly held it close to her heart. It looked like she was able to open up a little more after painting. It was exactly what he wanted from such therapy. Her smile crept away after she spoke, and he observed carefully as she withdrew, aloof again. This led him to wonder at the cause. Perhaps the coldness was a deliberate exterior. A reaction to being manipulated by Azazel? By hiding her real self, she obscured anything exploitable. An act of self-defence, but applied in all situations, isolating her further, making her less likely to trust and open up, and in turn strengthening her hardened shell. A downward spiral of loneliness and hostility. He had encountered a few similar cases before. Usually, patience and a consistent, unconditional warm and welcoming attitude won them over. After enough time with him, the patients would extend timid truths about themselves. A glimpse here and there into their hidden hearts, fleeting yet vital. He was good at this, he reassured himself. He was always the person that invited more into their social circle, included the quietest and shyest, though it had its disadvantages, in that people thought he was a flirt. He didn’t really mind. It seldom came back to bite him and he could take a slap or two. People didn’t usually turn him down, either, due to a mixture of kindness, charisma, and his powerful smile. He picked a query from his mental catalogue, one of the many diverse wordings of the same psychologist’s platitude. “What effect does this image have on you?” A question that was more widely known as: how does this make you feel? He had always thought it sounded patronising and avoided it wherever he could, though he often ran out of non-pretentious ways to phrase the cliché and reverted to the obvious.
no matter how deep you withdraw
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Chocolate
Fallen
Ashes Ashes We all fall down
Posts: 102
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Post by Chocolate on Feb 26, 2011 21:15:48 GMT
Nala
I may not be much.
Her emerald eyes examined the painting again, finding the faults in it. The buildings weren't as straight as she wanted them to be, a window was a little off from the others. The tiny details that bugged her, they seemed to dig under her skin, into her veins. It wasn't perfect, far from it. She wanted to destroy it, ashamed of it's faults, ashamed of her own faults.
The faults, he can see the faults. The phrase repeated in her head like a constant taunt. It wasn't perfect, she wasn't perfect. It was like her defense was breaking. The faults the faults, it felt as if they had slapped her in the face, kicked her in the gut.
Her hand twitched slightly, as Nala resisted the urged to tear the picture up and throw it away. It's worthless, it has flaws, I ruined it. I ruin everything. The Devil's words repeated in her ears. 'Worthless.' I'm worthless, she realized, though she was far from it. She was stuck inside her own mind, slowly dieing. It felt as if the world was on her shoulders.
She barely heard him, but his words rang in her ears, bringing her closer to reality. 'What effect?' What effect. She stared at the picture again, taking her breath away violently. Keep yourself together. She commanded herself, but it was hard to listen when the room was spinning. Breathe! Breathe! Her mind commanded her, but her lungs wouldn't listen. She started to sway slightly and she finally closed her eyes, regaining composure.
Sometimes, when things get tough, you get tougher. "I don't know, It's just a painting, that's all." Her lying words cut through her. She had committed a sin, but she didn't care. If it hid her she wold do it. How could she let someone into her heart when the last time she trusted someone they betrayed her. But what I am, Is worthless.
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Post by snow on Mar 3, 2011 21:30:29 GMT
I know you’re in there He watched her closely after speaking, trying hard to catch all of her gestures. Because of his scrutiny, he quickly noticed her unsteadiness. He tensed, prepared to catch her if she collapsed, but she recovered and opened her eyes. He frowned, perplexed at her lapse. Had it been prompted by his question? Again, she had fallen when forced to confront her own emotions, and had denied their presence. He stopped himself, realising his mistake. She hadn’t denied her feelings. In fact, she had admitted that they were there, though inadvertently. What she had said was, “I don’t know.” His expression cleared. She didn’t understand herself. That was why she had been troubled at his question. That was good. He was back on familiar, well-trodden ground. Few people completely understood themselves. Self-awareness was a painful thing, a trial that made you doubt and challenge everything you were. Accepting your faults was even harder, and even he hadn’t gotten there yet, after four billion years. It was one of his faults in itself that he constantly concentrated on his flaws. Though he did not obviously have low self-esteem, and had not registered the fact himself, it was there in subtle moments. Nobody had yet pointed it out to him. He stepped closer to Nala, an unconscious gesture, wanting to be nearer in hope of providing comfort through company, as he knew she needed. His head tilted to the side, regarding her with scepticism, curiosity, and the endless warmth. He did not believe that it was ‘just a painting’ to her. It was her first memory of Earth, one she held dear. What he wanted to know was why her feelings at the sight of it had been so impossible to articulate. Why could she not answer his question? That was equally as important as the answer he would gradually glean from her. “It is more than that, even to me,” he disagreed firmly. “Think carefully, take your time, but I will accept no less than a proper answer from you.” He smiled gently. “You can’t fool me that easily.”
come out, come out, whoever you are
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Chocolate
Fallen
Ashes Ashes We all fall down
Posts: 102
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Post by Chocolate on Mar 3, 2011 21:50:32 GMT
Nala
It's a giant game of hide and seek.
She sighed, looking at the painting again. Her painting. Her flawed painting. He wanted the truth, what she felt inside, but which feeling does he want? Too many clouded her mind. Anger, Resentment, Loss, Depression, Sadness, Longing. Which one to choose?
A piece of orange hair strayed from her mass of hair. "It's flawed. " She stated, almost avoiding the question. "Do you have a place where I can clean up? I feel dirty." She asked, and stated, looking down at her raggedy clothes. Her hair was a mess as well.
Her hand rubbed her other arm, almost chaffing it. A nervous habit, feeling uncomfortable with confronting her emotions.
A game that I can never win.
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Post by snow on Mar 5, 2011 22:39:01 GMT
I’m coming to find you He wasn’t buying it. As usual, his concentration was unbreakable, and he would have none of her attempts at changing the subject. He contemplated her words, his brow creasing as he became fully serious. She was so uncomfortable with the topic. All she had said was, “It’s flawed.” Raphael pursed his lips, all too aware that this was not an answer. She had skipped describing her feelings and had instead given a reason for them. He knew now that she didn’t like the picture, because it wasn’t exactly how she wanted it. So she was a perfectionist. He slotted this new idea into what he already knew about her, putting things into better perspective. A drive to improve herself, prompted by constant comparisons to Gabriel, her fellow warrior, led her to berate herself fiercely for mistakes. That worked out. Also possible was that she hated for people to see her work if she wasn’t completely satisfied with it, because she was extremely self-conscious. That fitted with how she hated for people to touch her wounds, and wanted to clean herself up now, as if to compensate for the imperfect painting. The only problem he could think of with this option was that she was distanced from everybody. Self-conscious people tended to have lots of acquaintances, people they called friends but really weren’t that close to. She wasn’t like that. He settled for the first theory. It roughly made sense with what he already knew, though it would all need tweaking constantly. It explained her isolation, because she would not want people to see her faults. However, he wasn’t quite sure how her perfectionism fitted with how she was confused over her feelings, which he had noted earlier. He would pull it all together soon, he was sure. The sense of progressing encouraged him. He reassessed Nala. A lock of her hair had fallen over her face, and she was rubbing her arm. He knew she didn’t have any injuries there, so it was an emotional gesture. She wasn’t self-conscious, as he had already established. Nervous, maybe? Awkward? He wanted her to be at ease with him, but he couldn’t expect her to be open and relaxed about everything. His mouth loosened into a thoughtful line. She had been doing that for how long? The movement must be absentminded. She was distracted again. He was losing her, somewhere inside her intricate mind. He put a hand over hers, the one that was irritating her arm, stopping her. He gazed at her steadily, both encouraging and determined. “Answer me, Nala.”
are you ready or not?
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Chocolate
Fallen
Ashes Ashes We all fall down
Posts: 102
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Post by Chocolate on Mar 6, 2011 2:25:51 GMT
Nala
Can't I put this off to a different day?
She closed her eyes, almost turning away from him, a tear rolled down her face. She had to confront her emotions. "It's flawed, and it makes me feel stupid and ignorant and imperfect, and- and not worthy to even be here in your presence." She said, her voice cracking slightly when she said the word and.
"It proves to me how flawed I am. It proves to me that I can never do anything right, no matter how hard I try." She looked away ashamed as tears rolled down her dirt streaked face. "I ruin everything I touch." She said, almost tearing herself away from his grip, as if saying.'if you touch me you might become like me.' "It shows how worthless I really am." She said looking at the corner as if it would help her, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Raphael. Silent tears rolled down her face.
The Devils words still played in her mind, still constantly hurting her almost as if she was still there in that chamber with his eyes glaring her down. 'worthless, spineless, a fool, can't even defend herself.'
Because right now I can't go on
I'll drop my shield, if it means that I can cry for a little while
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Post by snow on Mar 12, 2011 22:25:47 GMT
one day, will we get there? Raphael had not expected to be able to empathise with her so strongly. Imperfect, unworthy, useless… He felt the same way about himself often, too many times to count. It was too easy to look at the others, his ‘equals’ in the Host, and internally cower, becoming something weak and pathetic in his own mind, unremarkable, unimpressive. It had grown worse, slowly, as he had less and less work to do, less and less reason to believe he was pulling his weight. Unconsciously, he compensated by spending his free time socialising, telling jokes and teasing others to keep them happy. It was his nature, his inborn drive to improve the lives of everybody, and sometimes he messed around simply because he didn’t know what else to do. It was his first reaction, and usually it didn’t cause problems, unless it was seen as flirtatious. However, it did tire him out after a while, and it was when he was tired that his self-esteem would come back to bite. Pity and compassion prompted him to grip Nala’s hand, and he moved around her to try and make her meet his gaze, so that she would acknowledge his sincerity. When he realised she was crying, he faltered, his fingers intuitively tightening around hers. For him, the gesture was nothing romantic, only supportive. The torment in her emerald eyes was painful to witness, leaving a familiar pang of sorrow in his chest. Everything in him drove him to help her, to do anything – no, everything he could. A distant part of his mind observed that he was becoming far too emotionally involved in this patient, but he chased the thought away. It would take somebody with better self-control than him to stay professionally detached in the face of such moving vulnerability. “That’s not true,” he told her, his tone and matching stare leaving no room for contradiction. “Everybody has skills and value, no matter how much they doubt themselves. Look at you: after all the reasons you had to fall, you came back to us; you resisted temptation from the devil himself and survived his efforts at changing your mind. Now that you’ve suffered so much, how can you think you have no right to be here?” Even as he spoke, he knew from his own experience that it wasn’t that simple. Self-hate was a snowball at the crest of a hill, only gathering size and momentum as time passed. Any rationality he presented would easily be crushed, and he did not believe it could be wiped away with pretty words. This would take time, effort and energy, all of which he had far too much of anyway. Without needing to consider it, he continued onto further reassurance. What she needed was certainty, confidence, the promise that everything is gonna be okay. “And even if I’m wrong, it doesn’t matter,” he added. “As long as we’re both God’s children, I’ll help you with whatever you need, and nothing will change that.” He leant down again to be face to face with her. “Because you deserve it.”
I hope it comes soon, for you
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Chocolate
Fallen
Ashes Ashes We all fall down
Posts: 102
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Post by Chocolate on Mar 13, 2011 17:14:00 GMT
Nala
If Only If Only the woodpecker sighs the bark on this tree was as soft as the sky, the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely he cries to the moon if Only If only.
She looked up at him, as he took her hand, she looked at his face, into his eyes. Sincerity, the emotion rang in his eyes, clear as day, But Why? Why does he continue to help her, though every time he tries she pushes him away, like a Kid rejecting Medicine that's good for them. It reminded her of that Mary Poppins song. A spoonful of sugar will help the medicine go down...
What were her skills and values? Archery, Painting, Writing, The list of her favorite things could go on and on. Why did she remember them? She couldn't before.. Petty words, he told her. Words that usually for her would fall on Deaf ears. She would have said, 'What skills and Values? I don't have any.' or put her hands up on her hips to contradict him, like she usually would, with anyone really, but she found herself unable to do that to him, not anymore.
Why did she come back? Why did she leave the human world. Yea, She wanted to feel loved again. The Angel wanted someone to tell her everything will be all right. Nala sighed, she didn't belong here, because she felt, unclean, like the Devil had destroyed her Holiness, dirtied her soul.
"Even the best can get wounded in a fight, even the weak can survive." She mumbled, looking up at him.
As long as we're both God's children... at those simple words Nala hugged him, still crying silently. She was like a little kid, hugging a parent who had been gone for too long. Because she deserved it. Nala deserved hugging him. She deserved the ability to cry and show pain in her eyes. She deserved the ability to be who she is.
People say that I'm amazing Strong beyond my years But they don't see inside of me I'm hiding all the tears
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Post by snow on Mar 14, 2011 21:32:33 GMT
I can see the stains that try to take over your mind The reply was expected. It was the hug that took him by surprise. Before he had even registered what was happening, she had her arms around him and he was already returning the embrace. He was careful not to touch the wound on her back, and instead moved to gently settle a hand on her head, that was currently buried in his chest. He had never known before, but it didn’t stop him hoping, that maybe in the same way he soothed physical injuries he could reduce her mental torment with contact. At least his presence would have a positive effect, even if it wasn’t lasting. As he waited for her to recover, he tried to repair the skewed outline he had of her personality. She was still proud, perfectionist, too harsh on herself, too closed off from others. What he had not seen before, and he berated himself silently for missing it, was that she was extremely lonely, more so than he had initially estimated. This loneliness made her fearful, timid and untrusting. She was like a child he had treated once, a new arrival through Heaven’s gate that had died after years of abuse. He had been terrified by the unknown, the unexpected or abrupt. Raphael had tried his hardest to move slowly, speak kindly, to make it absolutely clear that he would never use violence. Yet even when the scars the boy suffered had been reduced to what only time would heal, he continued to flinch at every loud or sudden noise, every time another angel brushed too close, and struggled to look anybody in the eye. Nala was like that, only emotionally. She was quick to shy away, always anticipating the worst from others, too scared to tell the truth. The difference was that she hid this, and it was that barrier that really got between her and recovery. Each obstacle he had to bypass before reaching her real emotions was another minute, another hour, another day added to her recovery. She’d have to cut him slack sometime. He would gain her trust and treasure it, for he now knew just how precious it was to her. He stood for as long as she needed, knowing it was her that should end the embrace, as it was something she really needed. He could not judge when she was ready. She would have to tell him herself. When she did, she would be faced with the kindest smile he could muster. but I’ll be here no matter what – I won’t leave you behind
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