Untitled, One.

A reply I wrote to someone a while back. Maybe I story will pop up here. But cheers, guys, I'm back.

The serpent knows a smile no more. Hearing Declan -- these words of abandonment -- melted away the up-rounded expression of a boy consumed with love. No, what took its place was a feeling almost unknown, hardly touched by the young serpent. He cleared the fog of confusion from his mind, his demeanor shifted to that of disgust. Had the raven not turned away himself, the snake would have been the one to do it for him with the whip of his tail, the force of his hand. A great surge of emotion boiled within. With the heat of anger, fingertips graced the elm wood which lie between the folds of his clothing. But what was that to do? Despite all and everything dark that ran shocks in his veins, not an ounce in him could hurt Declan in his physical form.

“And with this you are gone, Declan?” The words spat themselves out. “With this you leave? Are you mad? Might your drink have been tainted during dinner, now taking its effect? Declan, oh, dear Declan, I should not even call you such any longer, for you are not the Declan I lain my heart to once ago. You walk away now as if there is no bait willing to lure you back to my embrace. Oh, Declan, what are you now? Not the illest of words has been spoken upon your name before but as these bonds fall, I can hold back no longer. Oh, Declan, once the bed and now the door! A door by which it is shut with a broken hinge. Declan -- walk, oh continue to walk! Each step of yours buries what had been between I and you, know that well. If we are done to our truth then let me pronounce it for all, Declan. Consummatum est.” His tongue stressed each and every syllable of foreign word. His eyes -- he dared not to avert them from those of Declan’s, for he wanted his soul to be seen as sincere.

It was a mere second he remained before the click of leather footing as he spun on his heels filled the air. His turning mirrored that of which Declan had taken before, though he did half before the first turn of the hallway. “Acta est fabula, Declan. I am finished.” With that he continued, anger seething beneath him. Once settled into the solidarity of his dorm-room, left alone to only himself due to the holiday, he wept. At last, the great serpent wept.