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 Posted: Mon Nov 16, 2015 11:24 am
Private RP between Novablu's Gypsy Winter and Yumitoko II's Frost.  
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Posted: Mon Nov 16, 2015 11:26 am
He should’ve known that it wouldn’t last. That happily ever after was a lie. That happiness was some distant spark that only got near enough to tease, to twist, to tangle your heartstrings until they were a mess and then leave you with a hole in your chest where your heart should be. But he’d been a fool. He’d fallen for the ruse that he could be loved, he could be wanted by someone… Right. The blue and teal stallion snorted heavily, shaking his head as silvery hair flopped into his eyes, shielding those gunmetal grey depths from view. Because if you looked into his eyes, you would see the pain. The heartbreak that the half-angeni stallion struggled to keep carefully iced over as he moved through life each and every day that had passed, half-empty. His heart was a mess, but he didn’t dare show that weakness to the world. That same weakness that had made him fall head over heels for a stallion, only to have happiness blow up in his face and take a gaping chunk out of the organ he called a heart.
Love was for suckers…and apparently, he was the biggest sucker of all. After their fight and Dale had departed, Gansey looked his way and the way she looked at him—with pity, with an almost sadness—it had made his blood curdle. He’d snapped something, more reactive than a kalona mother protecting its newborn, spindly legged colts, and Gansey had replied with fervor, with that sharp-tongued wit that had Winter’s attention all those months. And then it was over. Just… Kaput. Gansey snorted at him and took flight and he was alone in the place they’d called a home. Surrounded by memories. He’d wanted to raise a family with them. God, he’d been such a fool.
And even now, weeks later, Gypsy Winter was bitter. The softness that had touched him was iced over once more, dragging him back down to the pits of despair because damn it all… He was lonely. /Lonely/. Before Gansey and Dale, he’d thrived on being alone, on being a solitary creature. They’d ruined him. Wings flared out and beat the air, anger swimming through him anew as took off at a wild bolt through the woods, crashing recklessly through the forest, smashing everything beneath cloven hooves. And it wasn’t until he was completely exhausted, sweat sheening his blue pelt and his feathers quivering and his throat dry, did he slow and finally stop at a river that trickled.
He was so very far away now. So far from the place that he’d called home.
It was over. There were only shattered memories in his wake, and Gypsy Winter was sure that he would never fall in love again.
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