first, I thought it was us that had changed - our relationship
growing, evolving. It's only natural, right? Two people thrust
together by circumstances and forces beyond their control,
getting to know each other, learning about each other. Things
were bound to change. We were bound to change.
But when I think back on it - as I lay awake at night listening to him thrash in bed, muttering words he shouldn't . couldn't know - I realized that the real changes started after Incacha died. The catalyst - one bloody hand clamping down, forever leaving its imprint behind, with a strength that belied its owners impending death.
And I realized that the changes were in him. He had changed. So slowly at first that I didn't even notice.
But he's different now.
And it scares me.
As I lay here in the dark, hearing the muttered words and half-formed sentences, I shiver, suddenly cold. So very cold.
And I remember.
Remember the instant it finally became clear to me.
When I finally saw . and knew.
That day when I looked at him.
And instead of the expected ocean blue eyes, I found myself staring into two pools of deep brown.
It only lasted for a second, but I knew.
See, I know those eyes.
How could I not?
They stared into my very soul as their owner, lying dying before me, passed on the way of the Shaman to him.
And I shudder as I wonder just who is sleeping in the bed below me - Incacha or Blair?
But, then again, do I even want to know?
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