But I am Not the Enemy [Charade]

[sbeeg]

Zanita Luzell

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There are many duties a Queen must perform for the good of her people. She must keep them safe from hunger, thirst and all the dangerous things that lie in waiting for them. Sometimes a Queen must make sacrifices for her people. A lioness must hunt for her pride to keep them strong, just as Zanita went hunting.

It was silent, everyone had already fell asleep in their places. Some had makeshift tents, others in trees and some just open on the ground. The girl had planned this to the last detail every night since she had sworn herself over to the brute's side. A part of her wanted to go back to her ratty blankets by Kovu but she had a mission that she just could not ignore. She had to do it no matter how human he seemed now. Zanita had seen him as he truly was, cruel and arrogant. Refusing to provide food for days, leaving them to starve.

Rage flushed her face and the girl crept forward in the dim light of the stars. The moon was only a tiny sliver in the sky and hide her quite well. She had donned all black, even painted black streaks on her cheeks to make her more of a warrior. It was invigorating, the hunt that is. The night air was still and heavy, but it didn't weigh her down.

He was close, she could see him near the tree line. The girl could not hold back a grin, he always insisted upon camping away from the group and now it would be his downfall. However, the closer she got to the boy the heavier her limbs became. The knife in her hand weighed a hundred pounds. Zanita hadn't taken the blade out in a long time. She hadn't felt threatened so she had never had to use it, until now. It was a simple little thing and the blade wasn't even that sharp. It didn't need to be for this, though. Killing a sleeping man didn't need a very sharp point.

The girl swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of herself. He was right in front of her, so close. She could see his chest rising and falling slowly, it was evident that he was asleep. She tiptoed forward, careful not to make a single sound. There was a lump in her throat and a cold sweat broke out on her brow. Hastily, she wiped it away with her sleeve, she needed to focus. This was dangerous prey and she couldn't miss her chance to pounce.

Both of her hands gripped the hilt of her blade, arms rising up, the point aimed at the exposed throat of her victim. Zanita urged her fingers to bring down the knife and finish him but they didn't budge. They were stuck in the air, poised over his neck. Her teeth bit down hard on her lower lip, drawing blood. She had to do this for her people.

What people? The rag tag group of freaks? Were they worth killing for? Yes! She had to. This monster was evil and needed to be destroyed. Yet, she still hesitated.

No. He wasn't a monster, she had seen that much. Ever since she agreed to work with him life had been so much... better. Her heart was beating frantically and she was sure it would wake the dead, let alone Sebastian.

Sebastian. A boy with just as much ambition and power as a certain girl Zanita knew. An intelligent boy put through a shit childhood and trying to make a better life for himself. A boy who understood everything Zanita had tried to strive for. A boy she...

Zanita couldn't kill him. Her blade could only hover over him, her muscles tensed up and her eyes tearing up. A small sound escaped her throat, a strangled sob she had tried so desperately to hold back. Lionesses don't cry. Lionesses don't give away their positions by crying like little children.

Why!? Why can't I bring myself to kill him!?
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[charade]

Sebastian Rothul

Sebastian strolls across a grassy landscape. A large conical rock jutting out from the center of the ground in front of him. Birds whiz by overhead, and somewhere in the distance, an elephant trumpets, the ruddy tempo meshing with the saddened tune of a morning dove. He passes a swine and some form of rodent rooting around in a log. Angered for some unknown reason, he kicks the rotting wood, causing it to explode into a slithering shower of insectile glee. Grubs inch along underneath the scuttling of many-legged crawlers. The shiny black carapace of an enormous beetle reflects his visage back at him as it tries to escape the questing mouths of the unlikely duo. Engorging themselves on their disgusting feast, they stare quizzically in his direction.

Shift. Cut. Print.

A group of dogs gnawing on a pile of desiccated bones. The whitened sticks have been picked about many times over, with not a single shred of meat clinging to anywhere on the surfaces. the canines attempting to break them open and lap up the liquid marrow that is held inside. Watching them briefly, Sebastian pulls a meaty hunk of raw beef from out of thin air and tosses it at their feet. They tear into it greedily, slobber running down the sides of their mouths to coalesce with the blood and grease from their meal, forming a viscous puddle that slowly soaks into the ground, turning it a sickly maroon beneath their churning paws.

Cut. Shift. Print.

A small cat clings desperately to the side of a sheer cliffside. It’s tiny claws can barely dig into the hard rock that makes up its only lifeline. It stares pleadingly up at Sebastian, its eyes pools of watery compassion. Far below it, the tundra groans with the pounding hooves of a thousand frightened steers. The cattle snuffle and snort as they run, their quadruple lines leaving no room to see the ground being torn apart by their eager hooves. The miniscule feline reaches for him and he laughs, his voice ringing cold and hollow in his own ears. A booted heel comes crashing down on its whiskered face, sending it tumbling down with a plaintive cry to vanish beneath the mass of moving bodies.

Print. Shift. Cut.

An old man walks with a cane across the rock;nestling in the crook of one arm is a baby boy. The infant is held up to the adoration of an invisible crowd who oohs and ahhs, before erupting into a full-on cheer. Sebastian stands in the shadows, willing the crowd to appreciate him as well. They do not see or hear his attempts at making himself noticeable. behind him stands another, trying to move out of Sebastian’s shadow and failing miserably.

Lights. Camera. Action.

A boy tumbles across a flowery field with a girl. The light crescendo of stringed instruments floats in and out of his ears as his nose is filled with the sickly cloying scent of crushed wildflowers. They stare at each other with a look that confuses his mind. More so, for he knows the pair, and would never associate with them. A waterfall burbles cheerfully in the background, sending strangely multicolored bubbles spinning throughout the air.

Action. Lights. Camera.


Massive skeletons rise up out of the field. The tumbling couple are replaced with a boy with spear facing off against a girl with short hair and murky colorless eyes. The scene is familiar to him, something he once saw on a screen. It is a graveyard for pachyderms, but it is not the large grey beasts who die this day. The girl was from his district, a little blind thing that sometimes ran the streets. The boy from three, spinning on his heel to plunge a cruel spear into one of her grey orbs, snuffing out her life as one would blow out a candle. She falls far slower than gravity should allow, winking at him with her remaining eye as the ground rushed up to meet her face.

Camera. Action. Lights.

The pair are replaced with other former tributes as the scene begins to rain.The pale girl from five and a half-crazed career from district two. The boy hurls insults her way, and the two dance a dance a violence, him claiming an eye from the girl the way the boy from three claimed the eye of his love. Is that what she was? A partnership born of nothing more than chance and the wish to be something more, to be remembered. A fatal blow is struck, and the boy falls into the mire. Mouthing some form of final words as his frame slid down the shocked body of the pale one. The boy stares in Sebastians direction and their eyes lock. An overwhelming sense of deja vu washes over the Rothul Boy, mixed with the bittersweet tang of something half-known and the pang of lives cut down in their very prime.

Curtains.

The lioness stalks towards him, her palms facing up in a sign of acceptance? Of Indifference? Her eyes alight with the spark of a strange fire that sears him straight down to his core. She is wearing white, a strange color to see, as it makes the dark tan of her skin stand out all the more. White being a symbol of purity, of newness, it is an odd concept to contrast with the girl he knows as Zanita. A smile adorns her face, shining like a firefly in the dark. She reaches for him as her hands begin to elongate into talons.

***

Sebastian's eyes widen in surprise as his subconscious instinct told him someone was near. Still half asleep he couldn't be sure what had awoken him; whether a stifled grunt, or a shadow that had momentarily blocked the warmth from his fire, it was nigh impossible to tell. But, his arm shot out to grip the rough ankle of someone that was standing nearby. A yank and the form came crashing down onto his, driving the breath from his lungs as it hit his stomach. A quick roll, and he sat atop the other,his elbow digging into their throat.

Blinking the sleep away from his heavy-lidded eyes, he waited for his sight to adjust to the night to see what the struggling form had to say for itself. Hadn't he told them all to not bother him as he slept? it was probably Stinky searching for some scraps, as he couldn't fathom anyone else being stupid enough to disturb his slumber. The firelight cast her face in stark relief, and he raised an eyebrow in measured suspicion."Z-Zanita? What... what are you doing over here? I coulda killed you."

[sbeeg]

Zanita Luzell

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The girl crouched beside the sleeping form gripping her knife so hard her fingers began to cramp. Kill him! Kill him for Kovu, for power, for things to return to how they were. No. Things are better. He has a plan, they're going to raid the mansion. They were going to make things better.

For such a decisive person, Zanita felt completely torn between two futures. Her lip was bleeding from her nervous chewing, filling her mouth with the taste of iron. I can't do it. Luckily, Zanita didn't have to make a choice. The big brute had heard her cry and was awake. Zanita had never felt so relieved to be knocked off her feet. She felt his hand around her ankle and before she could explain herself or fight back she was laid out on top of his stomach, her knife knocked from her hands, falling into the darkness.

He sure moved fast for a person his size, that's for sure. As soon as she landed on the ground, Zanita felt herself being flipped over and then the choking pain of something pressing down on her throat. Her fingers went up to grip it and found ti to be Sebastian's arm. She wiggled beneath it, trying to fit some angle to suck in air.

The firelight only lit half of his face, but she could see it. The confusion and shock was evident in his features. Even his voice sent a bang of guilt through her. He doesn't know. He doesn't know I tried to kill him. The mixture of shame and relief was bittersweet, and Zanita wanted nothing more than clean her hands of this. He could still find out.

Her knife, where was it? It had fallen from her fingers into the grass. He'd find it sooner or later, and then what? He'd know her true intentions and she couldn't bare to think of it.

His words hurt the most out of all of this. "I coulda killed you." Never mind what she was doing here, he was scared that he would have killed her. It was too much. Zanita wasn't usually a girl to feel guilty for her actions but this...

She didn't even feel the tears until they were half way down her face. Crying? What had gotten into her? She was just lying there, pinned tot he ground crying like a child. Like the child she used to be, on the streets alone and helpless. Only orphan children don't kill the people they- They what? No, that was too much, too close.

"Sebastian?" through her sobs, only a single word could get through. A name she had never liked, one that she refused to ever use. Yet there it was hanging in the night air, bathed in firelight. Her hands held onto his arm like it was her last anchor to this earth, trying to figure out why she was crying or why she even was over here in the first place. Did she want to kill him? Did she want to run away? Did she want to just stay here, looking at his face illuminated by the warm light? She didn't know what she wanted anymore. Her heart was heavy and her mind was a mess.

"Sebastian..." [/blockquote][/size]

[charade]

Sebastian Rothul

Hands, like secrets, are the hardest thing to keep from you

Had she been watching him sleep? Was this something she did every night and now was the first time that he had caught her in the act? If so, he supposed he had better step his game up for surely his instincts were lacking in that department. The fire revealed shining tears trickling down the side of her cheek. Was she injured? True, his elbow was jammed into her throat at the moment; which meant it might be more painful than he had imagined it to be. And there was the punched feeling in his gut again, creeping up on him the way a predator would on its pray. Once again, he had the clear upper hand, and it only made him feel awful.

"Sebastian?"

His name twisted its way into that hole in his stomach, widening the feeling of a void, slipping into his vitals like a knife to the back in the still of the night; like a silver blade creeping its way down the front of his face, searing his cheek like a red-hot iron would brand a rancher's livestock. Vaguely aware that his face felt hot with a blush, he simply stared down at her, trying to correlate a reason for this to have come about. She gripped onto his arm, fingers digging into the skin with a fervor and an urgency that matched the cat from his dream. It was reminiscent of how he felt around the time of the reapings; the one time of the year he was not the master of his own fate, as the peacekeepers collected the street urchins and marched them to the district square with everyone else.

"Sebastian..."

"Lines and phrases, like knives, your words can cut me through."

Zanita was sobbing now, and he struggled to come to grips with what he felt and what he wanted to say;and what he desperately wanted to push to the back of his mind and completely forget. There were only a few times in the past few weeks that he had tried to alert her to the words that picked and pecked at the back of his mind, threatening to spill out and reduce him to something he wasn't quite sure he was even ready to be.

Moving off of her, he knelt, and then pulled the lioness to her knees as well, letting his gaze lock with hers as he tried to make sense of the roiling emotions that threatened to overwhelm him like a tempest crashing down on the shores of a psyche's beach. "Zanita... you.."

"Dismantle me down,You dismantle me."

Sebastian turned away, attempting to pierce the veil of night that hung around them to see if any of the rest of them were anywhere near and awake. But, after a minute or so, the only sounds continued to be the soft crackle of the fire and and the quiet sobbing of the girl who had woken him up. She seemed so vulnerable in that instance, that it hearkened back to what he had been dreaming about. It was said somewhere that dreams are sometimes the subconscious thinking about the things you ignore with your waking mind.

If that was indeed the case... Was it really worth it to ignore it any longer? Sebastian turned back to her and roughly pulled her other arm close."Will you quit that sniveling?" he said with a sneer. "You look far more beautiful when you're angry."Drawing her close, his lips fiercely met hers, not unlike the time she said kissed him to throw him off balance, and yet it felt so very, very different.

"With downcast eyes, there is more to living than being alive."

[sbeeg]

Zanita Luzell

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The girl felt she would choke on her guilt, sobs and Sebastian's elbow. How weak it was to cry, and in front of him but she just could not help herself. The tears came with the force all of the times she had held them back. The boy finally freed her, and the wonderful feeling of being able to breathe again overcame her. Of course with more air, more sobs came back up.

She felt him pull her up onto her knees, a gesture she found odd but comforting. At least he was going to let her lie there sobbing. "Zanita... you..." She looked up at him, Sebastian's features further lite by the fire. Her eyes ran over him, taking in his straight nose and his cheekbones. His skin was the color of honey, made richer by the fire. His eyes, God, his eyes were so green. It was as if she were looking onto a field from the sky. Then, of course, the pale scar framing his eye. What used to be an intimidating face seemed so familiar now.

He was quite for awhile, looking towards the others in the camp. Zanita tried to to put a stop to this crying business but managed to only stem the flow of her tears. It was so quiet, not even the crickets dared to chirp. Their only company was the crackling fire.

Suddenly, her arm was jerked back and she twisted around to see Sebastian's green eyes right in front of her brown ones. "Will you quit that sniveling?" the words were harsh but the tone was something she could not quite place but his lips were pulled into something that resembled a smile. Above the unique interpretation of a grin was... a blush? However, she was left no more time to dwell on these details.

"You look far more beautiful when you're angry." her mouth fell open a bit at the statement before starting to pull itself into a smile. Then his lips were on hers, strong arms pulling her into an embrace. They were a powerful thing, his lips and Zanita kissed him right back. Her hands flew up to hug his shoulders, caress his face- just anything to touch him. This was completely different from any of the decoys they had shared in an attempt to confuse or irritate the other. This carried a whole different emotion with it.

The feeling that pumped through Zanita's veins was so strong she completely forgot about the reason she was with Sebastian in the first place. All her guilt was momentarily washed away, leaving nothing but the red hot touch of Sebastian's lips on hers. They broke apart momentarily for air, her arms wrapped around his neck and her face flushed.

"You don't need any lessons," she confessed, smirking at him. Her mind wandered back to that confrontation not long ago. How far they had come from spitting insults and blackmailing each other to... whatever this was. Without a moment's hesitation, Zanita plunged back in, her lips eager to meet his again.
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[charade]

Sebastian Rothul

The kiss ended as suddenly as it had begun, her arms entwined around his neck, a rose-tinted blush creeping into her cheeks. “You don't need any lessons," she mummered before her lips found his again. Letting his hands roam across her like the sincerest of lullabies. It had been folly to ignore what he felt for her for this long, and it was all out in the open now. There was no going back from this. Sebastian’s heart fluttered like a piece of paper in caught in a draft of wind, feeling an urgency he hadn’t really felt before. For a moment, he wanted the daybreak to never come, so that he could just kneel here with her under the stars and not think about his plans and those he needed to exact vengeance upon. This gave him the same feeling of completeness , but in a way he was only just now coming to terms with.

He thought he was putting his heart in fragile hands; what was their relationship built on but necessity and fragility? The night was full of deception, but no more than that they held in their hearts. Sebastian leaned forward, moving her towards the ground as his lips found the side of her neck and began leaving small kisses that burned or tiny bites like the stabs of icicles.

That is, until his knee struck something.

Breaking his actions, he reached down, feeling around blindly until his hand closed around the handle of ...a knife. Sebastian froze. He didn’t own one of those. Was it real? The dreams he had dreamt had been intoxicating, but he wondered if they had been a warning. Hadn’t the lioness in his dream come towards him with a smile as she unsheathed her claws? Would her words have any meaning if he chose to listen to any explantion she might have? Did she care, or was she playing the most dangerous game?

As he stared at the blade, he felt he shouldn't take it personally. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised it seemed she couldn’t hold herself together, the conflicting emotions he felt, were only mirrrored by the one person he thought could understand him, but could he hold onto her? Skeptically, critically, he had figured he might have a place among the cold outcasts on the streets. But in the back of his mind, he knew that they didn’t want him around, same as the ones in the mansion; same as everyone he had ever dealt with.

He had never let it bother him, so why did he care about her opinion?

Scooting away from her, he sat with his legs stretched out towards the fire, the offending object held thinly in one hand. Looking around for the one to blame with his eyes, but knowing in his heart he had no further to look than the hands that belonged to himself. Staring into the flames, he spoke ever so quietly, his thoughts putting together a thousand answers, lies, half-truths and bitter motes of oblivion.

“Do you want to explain this?”

The smoke from the bonfire stung his eyes and made his vision blur.

Yeah. That had to be it.

Because boys like him weren't supposed to cry.

[sbeeg]

Zanita Luzell

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There was more than one fire blazing that night. Zantia felt flames inside of her, filling her out to the tips of her and toes. It was like his kiss was air and she would die without it. Lips found her neck, burning kisses into her skin. All the feelings she had ignored had been building up and now they ran free in her mind and through her limbs. To think that two people could hate each other so much and then-

"What is it?" breathless, Zanita propped herself up on her elbows, looking to see what was holding Sebastian up. Then she saw it, the slim blade catching the light of the fire. The girl felt all the blood drain from her face, whatever comforts she felt before had vanished. The guilt was back in full force and she could only stare at Sebastian as he looked the item over. She could feel her heart stop and crack as if someone drew a nail into. The little fissures crawling all over it, threatening to break into a million tiny pieces.

He moved away from her, looking at the fire with the knife still in his hands. With her knife still in his hands. The shame was heavy in her stomach, pulling her down from the hormone high she had been on.

“Do you want to explain this?”

Tears threatened to fall again but Zanita was determined to hold them back. She wouldn't completely dissolve into some blubbering mess, she needed to get the truth across in clear words, even if her voice did shake with the guilt and tears that were all stuck inside of her.

"I... It was something I thought I had to do but now..." she crawled forward, wrapping her arms around Sebastian, even if his back was to her. Lying her cheek on his shoulder, her arms grew ever tighter around him as if he might just float away from her if Zanita ever let go. "Now I know what I feel is... is real and I know what I want."

The words stumbled out and Zanita wasn't sure if they even made sense. The emotion pinned up inside had grown too large and too complicated to be put into just words. She had to show him, she had to let him know exactly how she felt.

"I couldn't do it," her voice was a mere whisper against his back. It may not seem much of a confession but for a girl who had killed men before without batting an eyelash, it was a remarkable change. It wasn't a matter of a courage, it was relationships and affection and all the other things Zanita didn't know she could feel anymore.

I should apologize she thought, but her throat could not take anymore of this heart wrenching confession. It was tight with tears that she kept blinking back. Her breathing wavered and her shoulders shook from the effort of keeping from sobbing all over again. She managed it though, not a single tear slipped through. Yet.
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[charade]

Sebastian Rothul

Sebastian refused to look at the lioness, feeling something inside of himself that threatened to crush him. The knife was more than just a physical weapon. It represented the fear and mistrust that had ruled his existence ever since he could remember. He had thought he could escape it out on the streets, but her actions proved him wrong. How could his chest feel like this? Like a powerful drum beating so loud and so hard he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. It felt like the knife was stabbing his heart and not held carelessly in one hand.

"I... It was something I thought I had to do but now..." There was a rustling in the grass behind him, she was moving towards him, whether in apology or like a snake ready to strike,he could not tell, nor was he sure he even cared. Her arms appeared, wrapping around his neck in a way that felt like a hangman's noose. The softness of her cheek touched her shoulder and he tensed, even as her embrace enveloped him. Let her choke the life from his body. He hadn't felt alive in a long time, and to have that spark quelled so quickly... "Now I know what I feel is... is real and I know what I want."

What did she want? What did she feel? Sebastian struggled to wrap his mind around it. Or... What did he want? He wanted... or thought he wanted, to be a part of something greater. To know that he was not alone in the world; that he could feel something special for another, regardless of the roads that life had taken them across, or the ones he had traveled himself. To know that no matter how near or far, no matter the degree of separation, there was an individual who could understand him on a mental level. What did he feel? He felt strange.

Strange being the only word he could think of to describe how he felt. Why did he feel like slapping her upside the head, and yet feel like apologizing and promising her that everything would be alright, that they could make it work, and just forget about everyone else out in the country of Panem. "I couldn't do it," The words caressed his back like snowflakes twirling their way down from cloud nine.

Her breathing came in short gasps as her arms began to quiver from where they encircled his neck. She about to start whimpering again, part of him said. She's in just as much pain as you are, said another facet of his mind. Sebastian was dimly aware of tears beginning to make their way down the side of his face.

"What do you want then? What are you capable of?"

Bending his head back, his lips met hers again in a blissful locking as his hands found hers and gripped them tightly.

He was hurting.

He was confused.

He was drowning in a tidal wave of emotion.

But he felt more alive than he ever had before.

[sbeeg]

Zanita Luzell

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"What do you want then?"

Such a loaded question couldn't possibly be answered so easily. Zanita wanted many things in this life most of them having to do with power. She wanted to sleep indoors and not worry constantly when the Peacekeeper would get tired of the street orphans walking around and dump them in a state home. Zanita wanted to turn 19 so the Reaping would stop hanging over her head. The girl wanted Kovu safe and grown. She wanted the mansion, and power and everything she didn't have as a helpless child on the streets. Zanita Luzell seemingly wanted a lot of things.

"What are you capable of?"

Death. Life. Anything, but her list was cut short when Sebastian twisted around and reunited their lips. His kiss was like water after weeks of drought. She could feel his hands wrap themselves in hers, gripping hard with some kind of desperation she didn't know he could feel. His face was wet with... tears? She guessed they were both vulnerable at the moment, working out all the things that had been so long stuck inside their heads. Which brought her back to his question- What am I capable of? Again, they broke apart for air, and she saw his face. The fire's light was dim but she could make out the tears on his cheeks. She worked a hand loose from his grip and caressed his face, wiping away the tears from the scarred skin below his eye.

"Love," Zanita could not remember any time she had said something so sappy or cheesy, but she had never felt something this strong before. Now she knew why people said things like "I love you" it wasn't because they were weak, sentimental people it was the fire in your core and the blinding swirl of emotions in your mind. It was so many things all at once that she could only put into one word. The girl knew that Sebastian could have said it in more eloquent words, long fancy words that she could only guess at their meaning. For a street rat like herself, the word she had blocked out all those years was the only one that came to mind. It was the only one that described the desperate need to be near him and hold his hands and steal his kisses.

It was exhilarating and scary all at once. Like going on a hunt. That's what she had left her side of camp intending to do, right? Frankly, this fluttering feeling in her chest was a lot more enjoyable than any adrenaline rush she had ever experienced.

Leaning forward, she caught his lips with hers, addicted to the taste, the touch, everything he had to offer. You could say Zanita was enamored with the boy, a feeling she felt was mutual.
[/blockquote][/size]

[charade]

Sebastian Rothul

The touch of her fingertips on his scar sent shivers down his spine, raising goosebumps as they traveled along the course of his body. This was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and Sebastian had experienced quite a bit in his four years on the streets of the district. But this was so different, this feeling of enamored bliss that made his mind spin, the plans and strategies momentarily forgotten as all he could think of was the lioness and how sweet her lips tasted in that moment.

A moment he wished he could capture forever and keep locked away in his heart under the mountains of regret and anger, the fear and the confusion. Staring up at her, and past her dark eyes, the stars winked knowingly around the half-moon. He filled with a desire to tell her sweet nothings, to let her know about all of him, but if he were to tell her all the sordid details of his past, would she turn away? Think the less of him? In the back of his mind, he knew she had just as much to hide as he did, but that did little to comfort him.

The soft tickle of the grassy ground on his legs coupled with the cool breeze of the summer's night felt almost magical. "Love," The word crept through the air stealing through the nights uncertainties like a thief. What did that word mean to him? There were no mathematics to that emotion. If the games were any indication, it meant that sometimes, a person was willing to kill for that feeling, or to die for the self-same reason. It forged attachments between people that may not have come together otherwise, though he often thought it made people do stupid and irrational things.

Though, it also meant the passion of desire and the intimacy shared between two people. Or the platonic bond of friendship followed by a dozen other meanings. This diversity of definitions made that concept so hard for Sebastian to define for himself. The boy had always considered it to be a tool, understanding it as part of the survival instinct, meant to keep people together against those who would do them harm.

But as she leaned forward, once more catching his lips with hers, all of those whys and hows evaporated like so many raindrops under the fierce glare of the sun. Sebastian nipped her bottom lip with teeth, aware that he was still holding the knife by the hilt. Without a second thought he tossed it away, dimly hearing it land with a dull thump someway away from where he sat with Zanita.

Twisting around, he bore her to the ground, his strong hands gripping the hem of her dark pants as he began to move them downwards."Zanita..." he breathed. Sebastian was an orphan, an outcast from society at large, and even turned away from other groups of misfits. What did it make you if you were cast out of a house by other outcasts? If your life was nothing but a number to the capitol and a whispered name by your peers? Ever since coming to this band of miscreants he had not felt accepted but by fear and hate, and before that, he had always felt second best to the self-proclaimed leader of the mansion, always in the others shadow, forever standing behind the throne.

But that night with the lioness made him feel like a king.

-And now, we fade to black-

"Can you feel the love tonight?"

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