Re: Finding Solace in the Embrace • Closed •

[Damon Fauci]

If a creature does what is in birthed natural instinct to do, is that darkness or evil or is it just its nature, said the lion to the gazelle. This is why Damon was not joking. To him, a vampire who fed off of another's blood was a creature who was simply doing what nature has dictated for him to do to survive. For a human to kill another human…was doing so embedded in that human's need to survive? So who is truly evil, the vampire or the human? He had read a long time ago the writings of his uncle Niccolo which suggested that for such reasons goodness and evil are entirely subjective concepts wielded by the powerful to try and keep their power, and with what he'd seen of the world these past centuries he was inclined to agree. In the example of the church, Damon would say of course it was in the church's best interest to believe that even the worst of humans could turn over a new leaf - if they didn't tout that belief, they'd lose their target market as said humans would turn to psychologists for absolution from their misdeeds.

For this reason it was hard for him to discuss religion from her. Even praying for the 'right' thing. . . one could use their imagination to guess the kind of things he'd reply to a statement like that. Where she human, he'd reply that she had a choice of whether to see the priest or the physician, so to speak, as a creature born into the grace of free will. But like the lion, as angel from his understanding of it she was born into role which relied heavily on compelled behavior.

In other words, anything he'd say about the 'right' action wouldn't help her.

So he maintained his silence. Hand moving after the squeeze of her arm the moment prior to stroke instead down her back, fingers idly toying with the ends of her hair after his hand returned upward. Those pale, nimble fingers slipped under the canopy of blonde locks, the cool of the tips petting across the nape of her neck.

He'd begun this night with her in a rare display of emotion, and now found his thoughts walking logical - if not slightly philosophical - paths. That trajectory was something he was mulling over when asked him to stay. "Until morning?" It was echoed and she might hear the ironic touch to his voice. A Romantic of music rather than nature, when the evolution provided his bloodline with what was called the 'miracle' of walking in the sunlight again he had not wept like some of his kindred when he saw his first sunrise in two centuries. It had been, as modern speech coined, overrated. But something easily weathered.

Besides, he wasn't planning on going anywhere. And hadn't given any indication that he was. Which said to him that she was asking out of need, for the comfort of having confirmation. Damon looked down at her, returning the gaze of her eyes with his own. "Of course, Angel." In the position they were currently in, it would take a great deal of twisting to slip cup a hand under her chin. So he would have to do without that part of the gesture, this time, and she would have to forgive him for the simplicity of what was done instead - a bend of his head, to take advantage of the angle her own was at so that he might deliver upon her lips a kiss.