consonance ;; delilah

[cavalrychoir]

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The last thing Ren wanted or needed at the moment was to analyze every detail of his behaviour and how he processed situations. He didn't need his anxiety and paranoia to surface when he should be focusing on more important things. He didn't want to uncover more terrible things about himself but that's what happened when he was left alone. Without company, his mind would wander as intrusive thoughts lined up by the hundreds. Paired with self-doubt and self-loathing, he was a ticking time bomb when left to his own devices. He'd bottle every emotion, every feeling until he snapped in a fit of pure, seething and, unforgiving rage. Yet despite this he didn't trust himself to be alone with others. He's wild, untamed and, violent... Someone like him should be kept on a leash- chains, even. Uncomfortable ones that were a continuous reminder of the position he was in and how this was what he deserved. The memories of what he's done clung to his mind just as the chains do to his neck and ankles. Should the metaphorical chains manifest to physical ones, they won't be enough to hold the demon down. He was impossible to control and yet... And yet she makes it look so easy. Delilah was his sanity and his stability. She kept him grounded. She knew what to say when to say it. Her smile- so sweet and gentle but masked a hidden sadness Ren hadn't noticed before they shared their memories with each other. She's been through Hell and back yet she somehow manages to not only keep him under control but make his heart yearn for her. A specific kind of heartache the lynx was inexperienced with. It was an agonizing pain Ren wasn't sure he had the vocabulary to explain but at the same time, the pleasure that came with it was unparalleled. To have his breath stolen by a single glance, to have his heart swell with every smile and the butterflies that swarmed in his stomach when she laughed. The old Ren would have called anyone feeling this way pitiful and weak. A fool who doesn't know true happiness lies on the battlefield. The sheer excitement of creating a wound so severe, blood would splay out and create a shower only psychopaths would enjoy. Psychopaths and Ren. He really hasn't changed, has he?

He could try and fool himself into thinking he's doing his best to be a better person but has he really? What has he done? Sure, one could say not killing anyone would be a good start but even back at his tribe killing - though considered a fun sport - was only half of the story. If all they did was murder, their group wouldn't grow. They needed more members to remain strong and intimidating. You'd have to have a way with words. You'd have to know how to play into their hands but know when to turn the tides when they least expect it. You'd need to be tough and frightening. These skills Ren learned hasn't left him, nor has he forgotten about them. This is his default. This is who he is. Maybe he really can't change? Maybe this was just him trying to run away from his past? Maybe he was just using Delilah as an excuse to himself. "I love Delilah and I'm going to do everything I can to protect her... So I can't be a bad person, right?" he'd ask himself over and over like a broken record. Somewhere deep inside of him he knew this wasn't right. He knew he wasn't using her as an excuse and instead saw her as a source of strength. He knew what he felt was genuine and positive emotions- his heart told him so. His brain, however, said otherwise. "You haven't changed at all," it'd hiss. "You still want to fight, you miss the taste and feel of blood and you cling to Delilah because you know you have control over her. You know she can't fight back. You're simply taking advantage of her and those around you, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. This is what you were trained to do- no! Born to do! Bred to do! This is who you are." He hated how it sounded like him. He detests how he thought of a creature gargling around the blood that flowed and dripped from it's lips like a broken reservoir. Perhaps it was right- his brain he means. He still felt the need to take control- for individuals to answer to him. For them to acknowledge him and follow him and only him. He knew it was bad, he knew this isn't what he wanted to be but why was it so hard to turn the other cheek? Why did he still envision himself on a throne of bodies? What scared him even more is that it felt like him. The internal struggle of him wanting to change and thinking it's pointless raged inside him.

Delilah didn't need someone like him in her life. In fact, he wanted to protect her from people like him and yet, he couldn't see himself anywhere but her side. He constantly tormented himself by being around her but makes no advances to leave. Why hasn't she left him? Why does she always come back? Why gaze so admiringly at him? He was one of the people who hurt her. She didn't know this, but what if she did? Would she want nothing to do with him? She doesn't seem upset with those who did her harm in her past so would she forgive him? Would he be able to forgive himself? He had so many questions and no answers.

Ren wasn't paying attention to where he was going. The only thing on his mind was finding Delilah and holding her close to him. He wanted to feel and hear her heartbeat- he needed to know she was alive and well and if she wasn't... And if she wasn't? Ren hadn't crossed that bridge yet but he was positive he'd think of some sort of punishment for those who harmed her. He wouldn't get his paws bloodied in fear he may enjoy himself too much and revert back to his old habits but perhaps locking them away somewhere would be nice enough. He'd allow them to sit and think about what they've done and when enough time has gone past, maybe he'll let them go. He drank in all the scents around him as one large paw was placed in front of the other. After ten minutes, he felt his mouth grow parched and he closed it. His tongue felt rigid and devoid of moisture, like he was chewing on a rock coated in salt. Brows furrowed in irritation and short tail lashing behind him, the demon's ears twitched when he thought he heard rustling. Maybe it was a squirrel scampering about. Growling to himself, he decided now would be a good enough time to eat something. He needed to keep his strength up if he was going to continue his quest.

Licking his lips, the wildcat crouched down and crept forward. Thanks to his enhanced hearing, the rustling was much farther than predicted. Tense and powerful muscles rippled with every step as he stalked his prey for a good while. It wasn't until the rustling was very clear did he know it was right around the bush. He wasn't breathing. Dark red eyes were focused on the bush before him as long pointed eats were pressed against his skull. Just as he was about to pounce, he felt his body tense as a small familiar voice called out his name. Realizing he wasn't breathing, the demon sucked in a mouthful of air. Without skipping a beat, powerful hind legs propelled him over the bush and he landed next to her with a graceful thump. "De-" he started, but stopped halfway before collapsing and pressing his face to her shoulder. "I am- You are... okay. I am so glad you are okay." He gasped. He couldn't believe he'd found her... This had to be a dream. After so long- fuck he missed her so much. To be able to see her again... To be able to hear her again, it was almost unbearable. "I am so sorry... I should have woken up... I should have sensed something was wrong. I should have gotten to you faster. I should have-" he hadn't realized his eyes grew moist until he pulled away from her. Being without her felt suffocating and he hadn't noticed it until he was able to breath in the scent of cherry blossoms. Wait, wait- he was getting too caught up in the moment. He still wasn't sure if she was alright. "Delilah," he stared again, this time more of an edge to his deep voice. "Are you alright? They didn't hurt you, did they?" He felt too happy to go on a rampage but that didn't mean he won't.