Noir

Confusion and desire warred within me as I stared at him, my heart racing. I reached out, touching his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw. "I don't understand... what do you want from me?"Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Noir's eyes, once filled with desire, now burned with frustration. He looked away, taking a shaky breath. "I don't... I can't..." he stammered. "I shouldn't..."

I felt a sting in my chest as his words sank in. It was obvious that he was struggling with something deep inside, something that prevented him from giving in to his desires. I want this, that I want you... but I can't let myself have it." I reached up, cupping his face in my hands, forcing him to meet my gaze. "Then don't," I whispered. "Don't fight it anymore. Whatever it is you want... need... take it. Take me." I leaned in, brushing my lips against his.

Noir's eyes widened, the conflict in them clearly visible. But then, slowly, he began to lean in, his lips parting as he allowed me to deepen the kiss. His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer, his tongue dancing with mine in a heated duet. I moaned into the kiss, feeling the weight of his desire pressing against me. He moved his hips, grinding his erection against my center, and I arched my back, needing more of the sensation. His hands found my breasts, cupping and massaging them through the fabric of my shirt.

Noir broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he looked down at me. His eyes were dark with lust, and I could feel the heat emanating from his body. "You feel so good." He leaned forward, his lips trailing down my neck, and I shivered with pleasure. "I've wanted this for so long." His hands slid under my shirt, cupping my bare breasts, and he groaned against my skin. "I've dreamt of this."

I arched my back, pressing my breasts further into his hands, as he continued to kiss and nip at my neck. His hips moved rhythmically, grinding against my center, and I could feel the hard length of him pressed against me. I moaned, wanting more, wanting him inside me. "Please, Noir," I whispered, reaching down to guide his hand between us. "I need you."

Abruptly he set me aside, as surging to his feet he turned away from me. I felt a sting of rejection, but even more so, confusion. "Noir?" I whispered, watching him pace back and forth.

"I'm sorry," he growled, still not facing me. "I shouldn't have... I can't..." He took a shaky breath, again running his fingers agitatedly through his hair as he growled, "Just go...please. I *can't*, Lyra. Too fucking much is at stake." Confusion and frustration warred within me as I watched him pace, my heart racing. I wanted to understand what was going on, what he meant by 'too much is at stake.' But before I could ask, he spun around, his expression hardening. "I said, go."

The harshness of his tone cut through me like a knife, and I flinched, before turning, tears in my eyes, I ran back to my tent.

I felt a hot mixture of anger and hurt. I didn't understand what had just happened, why he had pushed me away again. I knew that something was going on with him, something bigger than just us, but it didn't make the rejection any less painful.

~~

The next morning, as we trudged through the dense jungle, the air hung heavy with humidity. The scorching heat made my shirt stick to my back, and beads of moisture formed on my brow. Annoying gnats buzzed around me, landing on my mouth and eyes, infiltrating the openings of my clothing. I swatted and swiped, in a constant battle to keep them at bay. Despite my liberal application of bug repellent, it seemed to melt away under the jungle's oppressive moisture. As I twisted and turned, trying to evade the insects.

Without warning, I collided with Noir's back, only then realizing that something was wrong. Suddenly, I was thrown to the ground by a deranged man, his snarls filling the air. The impact sent a loud harrumph escaping my lips, and before I could catch my breath, Noir was crawling over me, shielding me like a sheet of plastic wrap. Chaos erupted around us, engulfing the scene.

I let out a terrified gasp as an unfamiliar sound pierced through the air, a shrill, piercing cry that sent shivers down my spine. Despite the oppressive humidity of the jungle, a cold chill ran through my body as I witnessed those around me assuming defensive positions. I took in the scene, a surge of fear washing over me as I slowly realized that Noir and the others were aware of what was happening. Their actions hinted at something dreadful approaching, and I couldn't help but scream, "What is it? What's happening?"

Noir glanced at me, his intense gaze sending a shudder through me as he whispered, "The New Order."

Confused, I gasped, "What?"

"They're here..." Noir hissed.

Still bewildered, I stared at him, my face a mask of confusion as I cried, "Who's here?"

"The new order of Cyprians," he replied.

Suddenly, his words started to fade in and out as comprehension dawned upon me. I understood, and all I could do was stare at him.

Above us, the strange sound transformed into an eerie chant, sending shivers down my spine. A warning shout echoed around us as the trees overhead came alive with activity. Bodies catapulted off branches, soaring through the air and crashing onto the ground, stirring up the jungle floor with each impact. Dressed in black tunics that shimmered even in the dimness of the forest, the dark ones rose to their feet, unfurled their black wings, and launched an attack. In an instant, the cacophony of clashing weapons and cries of battle sent a jolt through Noir. His once serene face twisted into a visage of harshness and lethality before my eyes.

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With a forceful yank, he hoisted me onto my feet, half dragging, half pulling me towards a decaying, fallen tree. Shoving me inside its hollowed interior, he growled, "Stay put!" Afterward, rising to his full height, he melded into the fray.

Disoriented and vulnerable, I huddled low within the dilapidated walls of the fallen tree, deprived of sight but acutely aware of the tumultuous battle raging just beyond the weathered log. Bowing my head, I whispered fervent prayers into the darkness.

Hours later, the metallic clink of the spoon against the can echoed through the silent camp as I scooped a mouthful of cold, mushy beans into my mouth. The taste was bland and unsatisfying, just like everything else in that moment. The tears welled up in my eyes, their warmth mingling with the chill of the evening air as they cascaded down my cheeks. I desperately tried to hold them back, to regain control of my emotions, but they refused to be contained.

Eton's words reverberated in my mind, haunting me with their truth. "There are times when understanding can only be gained in baby steps, Lyra." I had expressed my confusion, my frustration at the inexplicable events that had unfolded. I didn't understand why any of this was happening, and it felt like the weight of it all was crushing me.

With a hiccupping sob, I set aside my half-eaten plate, the clatter of it hitting the ground only adding to the cacophony of my emotions. The sound of my own sobs filled the air, a symphony of anguish and despair.

As I ran from the camp, my heart pounded in my chest, matching the rhythm of my footsteps. The world around me blurred, the tears distorting my vision, as I sought solace in the solitude of the night.

I finally came to a sudden halt, my body trembling. I sank to my knees, feeling the rough earth beneath me. I buried my face in my hands, tears streaming down my cheeks. The salty droplets trickled between my trembling fingers, their wetness mingling with the dirt on my skin. A watery snort escaped me, my nose clogged with both sadness and frustration.

"Baby steps, my ass," I muttered, my voice choked with emotion. I had been thrust into a world I couldn't comprehend, forced to take enormous, overwhelming strides. Noir had claimed victory in the battle, stating that the New Order had retreated. But the phrase "for now" pierced through me, injecting me with a deeper sense of fear. Within those words, unspoken but crystal clear, I heard the ominous truth. More battles were to come, more lives would be lost. The unholy had not yet obtained their ultimate desire - me.