Esme.

(note to reader: I don't really get this one eitherr? I'm just trying to work out her perspective on everything, it isn't necessarily right. (: (Y) )

I like to watch him at night... He doesn't do much. He just stares, at the darkness in front of him. Again he is serious, which I cannot stand. It makes me want to get up and hug him you know?. I love that seriousness too, because that's just one of the things that makes Conor Conor...

In the day, he just stares at me in front of him. It's flattering in a way, but I've never thought of it like that. You see, when he looks at me, I can't help but notice the perfection of him. His electrifying blue eyes, that don't so much give a sense of comfort and kindness, but of danger and caution. But I love that, because that's just Conor. His face is cream and goes a shocking red in his cheeks when I compliment him. His hair is a light, muddy brown that is nothing special, but amourable in a schoolboy sort of way. Conor's body... is too amazing to even think about, but I never noticed it until other people had mentioned it to me. The rock hard solidness of his stomach was a result of combat, training for the war. The muscles in his thighs and calf's were a result of running back and forth through courses, making sure he was fit enough to fight for hours on end. This was not a pleasant thought. The ruddiness of his appearance was loveable, though not innocent. He'd seen too much for me to bear and I'd only wanted to hear it once. That was enough. You could see nothing in Conors eyes, and no one searched. They were so hypnotisingly striking that no one had pondered the lack of emotion in them. They were in no way distant or unfriendly, but icy cold, solid and certain. They were just eyes, you couldn't figure out anything about Conor by his eyes...

So I like to watch him at night the best, when he doesn't know I'm watching. I peek at him from under my lashes and he never notices. Sometimes he goes and sits and stares at the darkness. I can walk up right behind him and he doesn't notice. Or maybe he doesn't want to notice, that's when I like him best. When he's thinking so deeply, a crator could fall in front of him and he wouldn't even blink. His expression is black in this deep thinking, but this is the Conor I love, for this is the Conor I know. I like how I am not special to him. He says he loves me, but I do not know if he just loves the idea of me. Still, I'll always stand behind him, strong and powerful. Because I know who I am, and he thinks he knows who he is. He doesn't realise that no one knows him as well as I, even though I don't know his thoughts. I know what he needs and that's the most important. Don't misunderstand me, I have no idea in the slightest what he wants (he is very secretive in that way). He needs consistency. Conor needs somebody who will listen when he wants, and will say whats on their mind, but not in any form of advice. He needs someone who can accept the wrongs he's done without saying that there is a problem. He needs someone to stand by him and watch him crash and fall... So then he can learn to pick up his own pieces, with a little help from someone...with a little help from me. I like him. I like how he smiles if I make him, I hate he he's serious. But in a way I love that about him. I like to know he's suffered and knows that life isn't perfect. I like how he thinks I'm so vulnerable and innocent. I like how he wants to know what it's like to die, and I like how I'm helping him feel that. I love how he's with me and loves me, but it's not perfect. Conor needs me to love him. I am his everything, but he feels like he needs to know what it feels like to lose everything, to die inside. Every reckless step I take, brings him closer to losing everything, to dying. I hate how he lets me be reckless sometimes, so he gets just a taste of knowing what it's like to lose everything. But I love how it isn't long before he is willing to die trying to save me. I hate how much pressure there is to help Conor, when I just want to love him.



I hate how there is so much pressure from my mind to lose her, when I need her, when i want her, when I love her.