Destruction in shining Armour!

The first thing one could notice about him was the shape of his mouth – thinly carved lips over a full mouth. The green mystical eyes would always be the next, not that the color of his eyes had any importance, what was captivating was how his soul laid bare through that medium. One could swear that there was a flicker of his entire life burning in them if you just looked long enough. He knew. He would blink.

He was tall, black hair, fair skinned, deep lines and strikingly beautiful. He was charismatic, had a flair with words, intellectual, a good conversational partner, headstrong and irrevocably passionate about certain things.

Once you had the courage to dive a bit deeper, a dark, powerful and intense energy would start to emanate. He covered this energy pretty well and had you, yourself, not been in the abyss, you would believe in the flawless facade that he had put up.

He was beautifully broken and that is how she knew that the knight was, in fact, a destructive force. He was emotionally in a vacuum. She watched him in that impenetrable space. She wondered if he had a heart that bled or if it felt the warmth of a morning sun. He was completely oblivious to what was happening around, or that is what he would make you think. He knew. She knew too.

His portrayal of indifference reminded her of Meursault’s final acceptance – brutally alluring.

“What are you?” she asked

“Are you a psychopath?” she asked

She provoked him. He did not retaliate.

Every time he went away, he left a bigger gap in her knowledge. When they came closer, his darkness mingled with hers and she was unable to differentiate where she started and where he ended. She began to sketch him out, placing one piece of the puzzle after the other. She thought she had it but he would escape – one piece at a time.

She was letting herself to be drawn in, just like a moth, but a knowledgeable one, who knew she would get burnt and yet, still continue to circle the fire, each full circle, getting a little bit closer to obliteration.

Was it worth it? She knew very well – it always is, it always will be! There is no life without passion, without destruction, without chaos. For his part, he had yet to learn his philosophy, yet to harness what he was destined to be.

Rumi

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