Violent Words and Empty Threats [Samson]

[cressida primrose whitham]

Fuck, could it get any worse than lying to your best friend? Even when you knew that they knew that truth? Apparently so. Them seeing through your cover-up attempt was pretty damn scary indeed. She actually sighed, sadly. It was just awful. She could tell, through the hollow laugh and his words, that her lies hurt him. But she couldn't, she just couldn't, let him know the truth. It wasn't happening under any circumstances. So, with a small, melancholic smile on her face, she leaned forward and spoke in a voice that was barely above a hoarse whisper. "Chose est, Samson," she said softly, "Nous ne sommes pas plus des enfants."

[/b]

Where had this gone? She was now with the one person in the world that she used to be able to really trust other than her family. She'd even shown him her powers, for crying out loud. What would be more strange than that? She knew that she wasn't the only victim in the world, nor was she the only faerie, but faeries seemed to be distinctly lacking compared to victims. That was common. She was common. Just a statistic. And there wasn't anything that she could do about it. Nothing to do but just stand and take it.

She shook her head at him, slowly, sadly. She was grateful that she didn't have to talk about it because... she couldn't. Simply couldn't. But all the things that were being said, no matter how well meant, were just another guilt trip. It didn't matter if he was trying to make her feel guilty or not. It was working, whatever he was doing. She couldn't look at him. Just stared at the floor, knowing that this was it. All those years of hiding it... had accounted to nothing. Adam would get in trouble. Maybe prison. But what of when he got out? What would happen to her?

She stayed looking at the floor until she heard something spike in his voice. It was just a kind of... anger that made her wince slightly, coupled with what he was saying. But, no matter how hard she tried to stop it, anger rose within her, too, making her eyes narrow. What was he insinuating? Playing pretend, he'd said. Did he think that she thought this was nothing more than a fucking game? Because it wasn't. It really, truly wasn't.

Leaving... it sounded wonderful. Being free, being able to be herself (or as much of herself as was left), having people that loved her surround her once more. She saw her family sometimes, yes. But she never breathed a word of truth about her home life to them. If she were to leave, then she could. She could tell them. She would be free from it all. Like she would have been had she not married him in the first place...

Him. That was just the problem. Him. He'd know. And, let's face it. If she were ever to leave, to find her loved ones like Samson had suggested, that would be the first place he'd look for her. She'd have to leave with him; she wouldn't have a choice. And when they arrived back in London? She dreaded to think what would happen. It wouldn't make things any better for herself, or for anyone else, if she tried to flee.

An... an almost scornful laugh escaped her lips on hearing him say that. She wasn't meaning to mock him, no, nothing of the sort. But how? How could she just up and leave? She couldn't just go on Samson's whim. No. It wouldn't be safe, really, truly safe. It was just... absurd. Leaving was only something she dreamed of, never something that she actually attempted. She would have liked her life, or whatever shreds remained of it, to remain in tact. Running away would not help her in the slightest. So she laughed, before she could even stop herself.

"That's cute, Samson." she chuckled, a hollow sound to her voice. "You think that I actually have the choice." She shook her head, and looked at him, green eyes alive with a angry buzz of almost electricity. "If I had the choice, don't you think that I would have up and gone years ago?" She might not have been as bright as the average girl, that was for certain. But she wasn't stupid. She would have left. But could she? There was no way. No way in the world.

(translation: "Thing is, Samson, we're not children anymore.")[/size][/blockquote]

[samson hannibal corvus]

Not children anymore. Well, “Evidemment” He replied. So much had clearly changed between them. It didn’t seem like the woman standing in front of him, the woman he loved still even after more than ten years, trusted him anymore. She had closed herself off to him, to everyone she cared for…and the girl he once knew wouldn’t do that.

He listened to her next words and they made his teeth grind together. Cute? Cute?! Because, obviously he was trying to be cute with what he said. Her words, her laughter at his words that had been serious with grated against his nerves. Like she had said, they weren’t children anymore, he didn’t have to be spoken to as if he were still a child. “Don’t belittle me Cressida…Just. Don’t. Go. There.” He spoke, almost too calmly considering the anger he felt bubbling underneath the surface of his cool. The earth faery’s words sounded ridiculous to his ears. No choice? “An don’t say that. There’s always a fucking choice, you’re just choosing the wrong one.” He spat.
“You should’ve Cressida. The moment he laid a hand on you should’ve just left, gone back to your family. It’s not like you’re human, you could’ve left, you could still leave. If your family knew…” The anger he felt, was not directed at her, never at her but Christ was he now seething which up until two years ago wasn’t a trait Samson had…but now? His emotions were a mess and what was happening right now…he just…he could kill that bastard. He really could.
“God above, Cressida, if your parents knew, if Marius knew!” He yelled, unable to contain himself. “Do you think they’d let you live one more moment in this hell? No they wouldn’t. And no fucking demon could get in the way of a family like yours.” His voice came out as an unintended growl. Her family were close, they meant the world to each other and Samson knew that if they found out about how Cressida was being treated…not even the God or Satan could stop them from tearing Cressida from this life and ending Adam’s existence.

Samson hadn’t noticed until then that his hands were clenched into fists at his sides, that his fangs had elongated in his mouth and suddenly every sight, sound and smell around him seemed to throb through his every nerve. It was as if he needed to feed, but he knew having just fed that he didn’t. What he did need? Blood. The thought of spilling that male’s blood plagued his thoughts and he could swear it tainted his vision with the very same crimson. He wanted to find Adam and rip the fucker’s cold, beatless heart from his chest. All this emotion, this anger, the regret that he didn’t stop this from happening, that he was too much of a fool to have tried to fight for her instead of just letting her marry him. He missed his chance? Yeah right. It all fell back to choice again. He had a choice, and he chose to watch her say her vows of marriage to another. Using the excuse that he didn’t want to ruin what she had, her happiness when really he was just a coward, too scared of her rejection, of her not being happy with him…so much so that he even convinced himself that she was better off with the monster she married.
Argh, it was driving him crazy, all of this it was hard to keep a lid on his thoughts and emotions, everything was boiling over and he just- “Just…stop making up excuses. You know this isn’t right! The idea of you…not being happy…of you suffering. It’s driving me into madness.” He spoke, having to look away from her. Samson was ashamed of what he was now, he wanted her to just remember him as the man who was still warm, who’s heart still beat…he knew he must’ve looked just as much as a monster as the male she married, especially with how angered he was and he didn’t…he didn’t want her to see him this way.

Taking a moment to calm himself, he closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair as he took deep breaths, he couldn’t lose it. Not here. Not with Cressida. No, she couldn’t see how much of a demon he himself had truly become. When he finally felt calm enough that he wouldn’t explode, he opened his eyes again and looked at her “Please. Cressida, Jonquille, don’t stay here. Not with someone who doesn’t love you, with someone that hurts you, don’t condemn yourself to a life like this.” He almost felt as if he was pleading her as he search her soft emerald eyes for any sign of sense in this madness. Samson wished that if he willed it enough, she’d listen, she’d free herself.

[cressida primrose whitham]

She knew that she probably shouldn't have gone so far as to say what she was thinking. It was so out of character for her, too. She knew that, if she said what she was thinking normally, then she would be punished for it, f it wasn't the correct thing to be thinking. Most of the time, she was reserved, quiet, keeping very much to herself. But this? This she couldn't let go of. It was easy enough for him to say, but no easy enough for her to do. Therefore, she just couldn't stop her jade eyes, glittering with anger, from rolling like marbles at his next words.

"Oh really. Is there always a choice." she heard herself say definitively, her words just dripping with sarcasm, as if she already knew the answer. Which she did. It was a big, fat no. She didn't have any other option than to endure. She tried leaving? Death. For sure. She didn't even know whether or not she was exaggerating with that one, because she wouldn't have put it past Adam to do something like that if she ever tried to leave.

She knew that she should have left. But she couldn't say that to him, not now. She just summon the courage or the humility to admit that she'd been wrong. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides. "How do you know, though?" she hissed, her eyes flashing with anger. "How do you know he's even touched me? How do you that I was lying to you before? Because, y'know what? You think you know it all, when really, you don't know the half of it." This? This was just the tip of the iceberg. She doubted that anyone would want to now about the rest of it all. Not that she would ever tell them, of course.

And the comment about her family? That really set her blood boiling. Because, well, that wasn't fair in the slightest; not relevant, anyway. "Samson! Can you even hear yourself?!" she shrieked. "The only demons that have wedged their way into my family are mine! This has nothing to do with that!" Her inability to talk to her parents, her brother, about anything anymore, her fear of being judged or pitied by anyone, let alone them... that was what was getting in the way. Adam had played his part, of course. But, mostly, it was down to her. Her fault. Her fault.

She couldn't deal with this, she really couldn't. It was horrible to talk about, and to think about. What had happened between the two of them? Not quite twenty years before, they had told each other everything, been near inseparable... even loved each other, at one point. And now? Now, they were in a foreign room in a foreign house, having a screaming match about her safety and welfare. It pained her to think that. It physically hurt.

She took a few shaking breaths, just to try and calm herself, to almost no effect. It wouldn't have worked, anyway, not with Samson's words still running through her mind, sending it on a tailspin. She just let him talk, let him tell her exactly what he thought about it. She hated it. It felt wrong, and... no matter how hard she tried to contain it, she found herself saying "See, again! You don't know that I'm not happy! You're just assuming!" She winced slightly at the harshness of her own words, but she couldn't have stopped it if she wanted to.

Now, she had to admit, before she actually processed what he was saying to her, she felt pained that Samson would have to plead with her. Then that. That. Oh, goddess, she hated herself for what she was about to say, but she couldn't stop herself. She wanted to, but she couldn't. "Don't you dare." she snapped, before she could even control it. Don't you fucking dare say that he doesn't love me! Do yo think I would still be here if he didn't?" That was the reason she was alive, and not choking on dirt in a grave somewhere. He had to have some measure of love for her; he told her himself, when he was in his good moods. She was alive, and she would be as long as he loved her. ...Right?