Snippet #1298783

Anna listened to Delacroix's words carefully and when he came to rest in front of her she felt crushed by his presence. She wanted to look away from him but she held her resolve and kept eye contact. Once he was finished she immediately spoke, ready to try even harder to convince him to choose their side. "Delacroix if the destitute could choose a side then they would! They don't have a choice in their fate but we do! and-" Pausing in her words, her mind replayed what he had last said. "Includes me? Why would you specify me? You don't have to worry yourself with me but you do..why?" Her eyes were firmly locked with his now as she search for an answer.


" I was there your whole human life, waiting patiently on how best to approach you. I was there when they robbed you of your entire worldly understanding. You looked like a young faun just birthed from its mother; clueless, dimwitted but vibrant- beautiful. I was also there at the hearing and decision to execute you after you ran. I ask myself: But what would it take to make you see me the way that I see you? What would it take to make you want me the way I've always wanted you? I don't know why your in everything I see. I can't deny that you're everything I need. What would it take to make you fall for me the way I fell for you? What would it take to make you fight for me, the way I've always fought for you. And I don't know why you bring me to my knees- but I can't unwind from how you've twisted me..." He responded, his face extremely pained as he took her hand gently in his own.

He carefully slid a choker necklace with the resemblance of a rose. The material was suspicious though, it looked otherworldly. The stone was a strong blue with a dispersion similar to that of diamond, and fluoresced an intense blue-white under UV light. Its color could easily distinguish itself as a sapphire to all but a most practiced eye. But the stone it was, had taken the world record as the most precious stone of all: Benitoite. There were only twenty eight stones ever collected and the workmanship of the rose spoke about where all the stones went and spoke volumes to how devoted one had to be just to find these stones.

"I have been protecting you all your life, somehow weaving myself into to be your protector. Six-hundred years in the making. Six hundred years ago, I loved as any human was capable. I devoted my life to her life and our children. But my passion as a man was not enough, and I lost her. I sold my soul to my sire in a futile attempt to find away to get her back. But with the passing of ages, and all the lore gained I was left with nothing. Then about a hundred and twenty years ago- I met you. You were just a peasant girl then. Not even known to the likes of the Ambrose. Its then I realized, that of all the great power I gained and all the influence I had earned- meant nothing. It mean nothing because there was no one to share my prize, and there was no stronger feeling of power yet too be completely powerless than when I was with you. I have played my role too well. I can only play the part of a protector, a guardian- then ever as a lover. But as I said, that is the most selfish thing I have done in my six hundred years of living-but I am somehow earnestly proud of myself for it."