dorcas felt so many mixed emotions, standing in front of rabastan. she tried to not make it so obvious, tried to keep herself poised. she didnât want to break in front of him, didnât want to let her emotions spill. he had been her best friend, no more then that, and having been without him felt like a piece of her was missing. now that they had run into her, she felt almost like she had found that last puzzle piece again. she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, how tragic this all was.
she should have turned him down, should have walked away and never looked back. she shouldnât have ever written him back but she just couldnât - couldnât do it. she was weak for him. he had such a spell over her and she didnât think it would ever break. half of her didnât want it to. rabastan was someone she didnât think sheâd ever be able to give up. his soft eyes only for her. his gentleness having only been for her - who would ever look at her like he had? yet he was a man that had done terrible deeds, blood on his hands yet dorcas wanted those bloody hands to hold her and comfort her once more.
she swallowed, slowly following him. with his question all she could manage to get out of her throat was, âbusy.â ive been working at a job i donât particularly care about. ive been helping mary go through her grandfathers things and thereâs so many marvelous things. iâve been getting a little too drunk. i miss my family. iâve been helping your enemies. ive felt a whole in my chest since i left you behind. she, of course, didnât let these thoughts tumble out and tried to build a wall to block them off. ââŚyou?â she questioned back, wringing her hands together.
Rodolphus was right, Rabastan was weak. A weak man with an easy weakness, someone that would be put in danger if he was stupid enough to try and get back into her good graces once again. Dorcas was a liability in his life; something that would get him, her, and many others hurt or worse if there was to be an attack on him, but it was something that he was unable to help. His desire for her, his wants for her -- it was so much more.
Rab felt as if he wasnât himself when he was with Dorcas, but he was the better man that she made him. The better man that he wanted to be, for her. He wanted to take care of her, to give her a wonderful life away from the war in the safety and comfort of his arms, but he knew that he had destroyed that by making a choice that was destined upon him.
As they walked, their arms brushed against each otherâs once or twice, and all that crossed his mind was how easy it could be to reach out and link his fingers with hers. If only. It almost made him wince when Dorcas barely provided him with an answer to his question, hating the fact that he had driven away someone who was once so close to him. âThe same.â He replied just as curtly, trying his damn hardest to stay as distant as she was being - but instantly changing his mind. âItâs been strange, not having you around to talk to about things.â