Categories > Original > Drama > The Girls
Faer's aura suddenly flared up in a flash, glowing a far brighter red than her hair. It wasn't just around around her- it was coming from within her, making even her aqua eyes look red for the moment. She laughed madly, and in that moment she could have been mistaken for a stereotypical power-crazy villain. But then, Faer was power-hungry. Always had been.
"What was it, about two or three weeks ago that you said you'd never fight again?" said Iie disapprovingly. "And now look at this."
Des tossed her hair back haughtily and kicked her feet up. "And they consider ME the dark side!" she scoffed.
Faer was the light half and Des was the dark half; it had been such since time immemorial. Ironically, Des considered herself to be good one. Perhaps more ironically, Faer agreed with her in part.
Des could not have cared less about power, nor acceptance or popularity, and this made her both better and worse than Faer at the same time. Des was more real; Faer was nicer. Des considered Faer to be weak and a conformist. Faer considered Des to be needlessly rude and off-putting- yet she admired the fact that Des was true to herself above all.
This was not the whole of it; Faer was genuinely more compassionate, more trusting, and more of a pacifist than Des. Des believed in vengeance. Des didn't trust a living soul, save for maybe her sister. She'd better trust her, at any rate, after having sworn her soul to the girl. Faer herself was far less trusting than she had been in the past, but at least she wanted to trust.
Des glared at Faer. "And I'm supposed to be the dark side!" said Des again. In that moment, her voice was dark, her face cast in shadows.
Faer held her hands out to Des. "What word does your middle name come from?" she asked rhetorically. "Come."
Des did so, and she walked to Faer, grasping both of her hands. Both of them had their arms extended all the way when their hands met. Faer's aura consumed Des, and they both seemed on fire, burning with the energy. They both leaned back, keeping each other from falling by hanging onto each others' hands. They threw their heads back in unison and closed their eyes. It was the most perfect possible union of Faer's first name and Des's middle name.
Iie put her fingers to her forehead and bowed her head. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," she said.
When the ritual between Des and Faer was finally broken- for the moment- Des turned to Iie. "Keep on saying that. It's helpful," she said in a cooly sarcastic manner.
Iie shook her head. "Don't do it. Don't." But she knew that her words were futile, for it had already begun.
"It is in my nature. It is literally what created me," said Faer.
"I know," said Iie. "That's how we all got into this mess in the first place. That's why she's dead."
"I hope that you can eventually get back to your angel," said Faer seriously. "It will distract me, you know."
"What was it, about two or three weeks ago that you said you'd never fight again?" said Iie disapprovingly. "And now look at this."
Des tossed her hair back haughtily and kicked her feet up. "And they consider ME the dark side!" she scoffed.
Faer was the light half and Des was the dark half; it had been such since time immemorial. Ironically, Des considered herself to be good one. Perhaps more ironically, Faer agreed with her in part.
Des could not have cared less about power, nor acceptance or popularity, and this made her both better and worse than Faer at the same time. Des was more real; Faer was nicer. Des considered Faer to be weak and a conformist. Faer considered Des to be needlessly rude and off-putting- yet she admired the fact that Des was true to herself above all.
This was not the whole of it; Faer was genuinely more compassionate, more trusting, and more of a pacifist than Des. Des believed in vengeance. Des didn't trust a living soul, save for maybe her sister. She'd better trust her, at any rate, after having sworn her soul to the girl. Faer herself was far less trusting than she had been in the past, but at least she wanted to trust.
Des glared at Faer. "And I'm supposed to be the dark side!" said Des again. In that moment, her voice was dark, her face cast in shadows.
Faer held her hands out to Des. "What word does your middle name come from?" she asked rhetorically. "Come."
Des did so, and she walked to Faer, grasping both of her hands. Both of them had their arms extended all the way when their hands met. Faer's aura consumed Des, and they both seemed on fire, burning with the energy. They both leaned back, keeping each other from falling by hanging onto each others' hands. They threw their heads back in unison and closed their eyes. It was the most perfect possible union of Faer's first name and Des's middle name.
Iie put her fingers to her forehead and bowed her head. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," she said.
When the ritual between Des and Faer was finally broken- for the moment- Des turned to Iie. "Keep on saying that. It's helpful," she said in a cooly sarcastic manner.
Iie shook her head. "Don't do it. Don't." But she knew that her words were futile, for it had already begun.
"It is in my nature. It is literally what created me," said Faer.
"I know," said Iie. "That's how we all got into this mess in the first place. That's why she's dead."
"I hope that you can eventually get back to your angel," said Faer seriously. "It will distract me, you know."
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