"Are you fine with this Hugues? Nik and I can take over for you sometime during the night if you want to get some sleep."
Hugues shook his head and made a gentle dismissive motion towards Nik and Cel, keeping his blue eyes fixed upon the sleeping body. Cel and Nik exchanged a look before leaving Hugues' room, closing the door behind them, leaving Hugues alone with the sick girl. The blonde man's eyes darkened with some secret emotion as he reached towards the sick girl's hand, content in the knowledge that for once she couldn't fight back. The NyQuil in her system ensured that she would be thoroughly unconscious for a few hours at least. It was sad, the things that the local flu could do to a person.
Hugues fingers absently stroked the top of her hand for a moment before lifting the appendage to his lips. And in the darkness of the night, he whispered her true name into her hand. His eyes closed with something like pain for a moment afterwards, right before he moved his chair closer to her.
"Oh, you precious, vicious thing." His fingers, seraching for the girl, entangled themselves in her hair. His eyes roved to the strands of hair slipping through his fingers, and his face tightened.
"Your hair shouldn't be so dark." His whispered and lowered his head onto the bed beside the vicious girl and stared at her with something like longing. "When we were kids, do you remember? You had hair so blonde, it looked white sometimes and it was wavy , no matter what you did to it. But look at it now..."
He stroked her hair again. "You've gone and colored it black and poured chemicals to straighten your hair. Colored your skin too, come to think of it." He pressed his lips against the junction of her neck and her shoulder. "God in Heaven, you , do you think that painting your skin and hair, mutilating yourself...do you think that will hide you from me, you silly girl?
"The world of man is a dark, broken thing." Hugues continued quietly. "Down here, you can recognize it as being truth. You can see the brokenness and the squalor and the flith we create for ourselves. But up in the Upper crust, we hide our broken natures behind our smiles and our high class events. When we shake hands, we're determining how much we can manipulate the other and when we embrace each other, we check to see how frail we've become. We're as broken as the people down in the slums. We're just better at hiding it. So don't...don't tell me to leave you alone and to go back to the upper crust. I'm just as out of place there as I am down here. I just look more like them. So don't make me go back by myself."
"I would do so much to try and make you happy." He murmured, stroking her hair thoughtfully and paused.
It wasn't as though he didn't know why she'd dyed her skin, colored her hair, and pierced her skin. It was to create the persona of Payne, who had no other name, whether it was first name or last name. It was to create someone unlike the person who had used to be Ailbhe Marque. Someone who would be strong enough to fight the nightmares that plagued her dreams, so that she could physicall ward off the people that had damaged her. She needed Payne to survive down here because she couldn't survive up there as she was right now.
He leaned into her ear and paused, looking for the words to say. And then gently, into the curve of her studded ear, "Let me protect you. You can hide underneath me, all right? I can protect you from the upper classes," He pressed his lips against her cheek. "I can protect you, don't you understand? The Upper Crust hurt you when you were younger. I know, love, I know. But things are different now. You don't have to do this alone. You've got me on your side, and God help me, if any of them try to touch you like you've been touched, I'll bring down the wrath that only a million dollars can create. And then I will tear them apart, piece by bloody piece and send them to you during the holidays."
He lapsed into silence for a moment and then quietly, "And one day, I can say your name in front of everyone else without whispering...Ailbhe."
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regna
Esther - Prompt 8
Date: 2009-12-20 04:07 am (UTC)Hugues shook his head and made a gentle dismissive motion towards Nik and Cel, keeping his blue eyes fixed upon the sleeping body. Cel and Nik exchanged a look before leaving Hugues' room, closing the door behind them, leaving Hugues alone with the sick girl. The blonde man's eyes darkened with some secret emotion as he reached towards the sick girl's hand, content in the knowledge that for once she couldn't fight back. The NyQuil in her system ensured that she would be thoroughly unconscious for a few hours at least. It was sad, the things that the local flu could do to a person.
Hugues fingers absently stroked the top of her hand for a moment before lifting the appendage to his lips. And in the darkness of the night, he whispered her true name into her hand. His eyes closed with something like pain for a moment afterwards, right before he moved his chair closer to her.
"Oh, you precious, vicious thing." His fingers, seraching for the girl, entangled themselves in her hair. His eyes roved to the strands of hair slipping through his fingers, and his face tightened.
"Your hair shouldn't be so dark." His whispered and lowered his head onto the bed beside the vicious girl and stared at her with something like longing. "When we were kids, do you remember? You had hair so blonde, it looked white sometimes and it was wavy , no matter what you did to it. But look at it now..."
He stroked her hair again. "You've gone and colored it black and poured chemicals to straighten your hair. Colored your skin too, come to think of it." He pressed his lips against the junction of her neck and her shoulder. "God in Heaven, you , do you think that painting your skin and hair, mutilating yourself...do you think that will hide you from me, you silly girl?
"The world of man is a dark, broken thing." Hugues continued quietly. "Down here, you can recognize it as being truth. You can see the brokenness and the squalor and the flith we create for ourselves. But up in the Upper crust, we hide our broken natures behind our smiles and our high class events. When we shake hands, we're determining how much we can manipulate the other and when we embrace each other, we check to see how frail we've become. We're as broken as the people down in the slums. We're just better at hiding it. So don't...don't tell me to leave you alone and to go back to the upper crust. I'm just as out of place there as I am down here. I just look more like them. So don't make me go back by myself."
"I would do so much to try and make you happy." He murmured, stroking her hair thoughtfully and paused.
It wasn't as though he didn't know why she'd dyed her skin, colored her hair, and pierced her skin. It was to create the persona of Payne, who had no other name, whether it was first name or last name. It was to create someone unlike the person who had used to be Ailbhe Marque. Someone who would be strong enough to fight the nightmares that plagued her dreams, so that she could physicall ward off the people that had damaged her. She needed Payne to survive down here because she couldn't survive up there as she was right now.
He leaned into her ear and paused, looking for the words to say. And then gently, into the curve of her studded ear, "Let me protect you. You can hide underneath me, all right? I can protect you from the upper classes," He pressed his lips against her cheek. "I can protect you, don't you understand? The Upper Crust hurt you when you were younger. I know, love, I know. But things are different now. You don't have to do this alone. You've got me on your side, and God help me, if any of them try to touch you like you've been touched, I'll bring down the wrath that only a million dollars can create. And then I will tear them apart, piece by bloody piece and send them to you during the holidays."
He lapsed into silence for a moment and then quietly, "And one day, I can say your name in front of everyone else without whispering...Ailbhe."