Page 46 of Citrine

No one should live like that. Besides, I want to see if I can find humanity beneath the monster. Or, whatever you would call it, to bring out a softer side to his violence.

Clearly he isn't completely opposed to change or he would have simply murdered me within moments of finding me.

"Can you come out of the water, Wroahk?"

It's a lot to ask, since I know he needs to stay in the water to survive. However, I can't dive in.

The mere thought of it makes me shiver.

Those things are still lurking beneath the surface. I need to stay somewhere safe. He stares at me with what I can only assume is suspicion and slowly makes his way out of the lake and up to the shore. He settles just a few paces in front of me, his tentacles right at my feet.

The tip of the closest one keeps coming steadily closer, not matching the arrogant look of his features or the way the rest of his body is telling me he doesn't want to be around me.

I finally get a proper look at his torso, now that I'm not shifting terrified looks between his sharp teeth and tentacles that can crush things far larger than I am with little strain.

He's huge, yes, but also sleek and muscular. It's obvious he really does spend his days just swimming around and hunting. His teeth and his hands are built for it and I would imagine he doesn't need too much time hunting down his prey and devouring them, he must just… like it.

A bloodthirsty hobby, but it fits.

Just the thought of that sends shivers down my spine.

"So… if I touch you, do you promise not to hurt me?"

"Nothing is allowed to hurt you. Not even me."

My heart skips a beat. It beats even faster, bringing with it a rush of memories of the last time I felt this way. Do I really feel… protected? By this writhing ball of rage?

Huh. I do.

It's been such a long time, reminding me of my days as a love-struck, empty-headed tween who lived in daydreams, which were made possible by a loving father. I used to imagine a tall, dark and handsome stranger sweeping me off my feet.

Later, when my life turned upside down, I used to dream of a savior, a dark knight that would fight off the monster for me.

Because the shining white knight? Those don't exist.

I abandoned those dreams a long time ago. My relationships never last because I annoy the men I'm dating with my constant talking.

Even when I know they're annoyed, sometimes because I do know they are annoyed, I can't stop talking, eventually running them off. My eyes go back to Wroahk.

"Is there anywhere you'd prefer I didn't touch?"

"No," he replies curtly. "You can't harm me."

"That's not what I…"

I trail off, since I doubt he would understand.

I'm trembling as I step over his sprawled tentacles so I can get closer to where they have him lifted up, looming over me.

He subtly lifts himself higher, and my lips twitch when I realize he must feel threatened.

Unsure.

It makes me feel powerful and helps me work up the courage to slowly stroke the tips of my fingers gently down one of his muscular tentacles, starting with the thicker top, and dipping down until I can't reach any more of it without stooping.

A shiver passes up the tentacle as I stop. A quick glance up at him and I see that his eyes are now locked onto the movement of my hand, following it with the intensity I would expect in someone namedkiller, but for a very different reason altogether.

I slowly move my hand over to another tentacle, doing the same. Shudders pass through him, but he doesn't pull away. Hardly blinking as he follows the trail of my fingers.

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