Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-11588669-20140208053126/@comment-11588669-20140308184745

He looked up at her, a small smile stretching across his scarred features. No matter how hard he tried to bury them, no matter how much disdain and cruelty he could muster, the truth was he was still just a teenager. A teenager with only a little brother and a surrogate uncle. He never knew the warmth of a loves embrace, never had a girlfriend. Always, it was killing, sabatoge, execution and always, always apatheticness. He never allowed himself to care. He never had the luxury of morality, of choosing right or wrong. Survival doesn't bequeath romance. It thrives on brutality and the willingness to go to nearly any means to see the next day.

"I....I'm not good at...well...any of this. Romance...just...eludes me." Nox looked down at his bloody hand. A reminder of every sin, of every murder and kill he'd ever made. Every bad choice under his belt. Every time he'd ended an innocent's life. And she was willing to look past all that, to not care about any of it. She wanted to...fix him. Care for him. And he exhaled, his mind made up.

"I've never thought I'd find someone willing to...fix me. Someone who could be my redemption. I'm not even sure I know how to return these feelings effectively." His hand curled into a fist, and he looked her in the eye, his midnight orbs meeting those of a lighter blue. "But I'm willing to try. Oh hell, I'm willing to try."