Azurea cannot shake the feeling of not being worthy of Searanox. Inner monologue.

Azurea belongs to me.

~Angel~

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She saw her reflection in the shifting waters, eyes narrowed as the hues of blue gave her pause. Light eyes stared back at her, pupils wiggling like worms, telling her she was frightened of how she felt.

She dreamt of her paradise, and realized how fragile it was.

She had tasted freedom, she had learned love and she was waiting for the downfall, the moment where her world would come crashing into reality and wake to the sound of guards and chains at her door.

She knew she was not deserving of all this, she felt the cold sting of living another's fantasy, claiming it as her own and knowing that there was nothing else she wanted.

But silver eyes would never look back at her, only the light blue ones. The worthy deserved what they had earned, and she was not one of those worthy few.

She tightened her wings into her body, sliding down to lie on the river bank and witness herself in elongation, distortion and chaos. The water shivered her form in and out of reality and she listened to it to calm herself, but the tight feeling in the pit of her stomach would not cease its aggravation.

There was at one point she realized that her kind did not live in the past all too much, they took into account what they knew, what happened, reacted then moved on.

She was not so. She always felt the cold around her without his presence, and realized slowly that was it really hers to have? Was she deserving? Or was she only an adequate replacement for something that should have been but has no chance?

Reminders stung again, she was not worthy, she was not deserving, she was selfish and holding still to the belief she belonged at his side. She needed an answer, and none came. The only thing that answered was in the wild call of the river rushing by.

Perhaps she would stop here, frozen in time like a statue of thought and see if the world would stop with her. She dreamt of her paradise, but did she belong in its glory?

At no point did she feel like she was the first, she knew better. Her heart ached for romantic fantasies that did not exist, could not exist even though she pretended at some moments they happened. She felt less guilty, less undeserving then.

Time had not let her die as it would have in other circumstances, instead it let someone else die, someone far more precious perish horribly, loosing everything they held dear.

Her head lowered onto the ground, much like a punished dog, one paw tucked up to her chest as the other lay flat with her fore arm.

What would the dead want? Would they ask her to take care of him and love him?

She wished she knew what they once did, she wished she felt as they once had, rare and glorious.

She felt the numbness enter again, tail tucking up against her leg and shoulder as she took in careful breaths. She dreamt of paradise, and wanted to believe she was still there. This could have been paradise, if only she felt precious.