[ Despite her inquiry, it's more than Vanessa had expected to hear, and the surprise parts her lips in momentary awe, cloudy-blue eyes glistening as they widen just a fraction. Certainly this one is connected to the underworld; she can't excuse any other answer anymore. Vanessa has let go of her pen without realizing it, and the desire to reach out and touch the girl is visceral. Her fingers twitch with the urgency of it, but she resists before her hand stretches too far out, frozen between them. Her eyes narrow; her hand drops; she leans in closer.
Even with Ethan, she hadn't been able to so clearly sense the beast within him. She had always known there was Something, but it took time and trauma for understanding to be found. He had fought too hard to repress his monster; he tried so hard to hide it, even when he couldn't resist her, even with her acceptance... Something in the girl is similar, but louder. She doesn't want to be locked up. Vanessa can relate.
So can the Thing inside, and deep down where it's too dark for shadows to survive, it ripples at the acknowledgment. It's dangerous to acknowledge it; it's dangerous for Vanessa to invite recognition. The line that divides can always grow thinner. Her voice is a whisper; it scratches, yet croons. ]
But you are no moth. The flame would not consume you, would it? ...Would you revel in it?
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Even with Ethan, she hadn't been able to so clearly sense the beast within him. She had always known there was Something, but it took time and trauma for understanding to be found. He had fought too hard to repress his monster; he tried so hard to hide it, even when he couldn't resist her, even with her acceptance... Something in the girl is similar, but louder. She doesn't want to be locked up. Vanessa can relate.
So can the Thing inside, and deep down where it's too dark for shadows to survive, it ripples at the acknowledgment. It's dangerous to acknowledge it; it's dangerous for Vanessa to invite recognition. The line that divides can always grow thinner. Her voice is a whisper; it scratches, yet croons. ]
But you are no moth. The flame would not consume you, would it? ...Would you revel in it?