11-22-2020, 11:45 PM
CrownS
The world becomes a blur as his eyes refuse to focus on anything in particular. And yet, somehow, every detail is painfully sharp. There is a soft, wet noise as his tongue chokes into the back of his throat with every twitching of his head. But he holds on and lets the poison seep further into him. He can feel the serpent of his magic awakening, yet he holds it down. Not yet. He hasn’t found the limits of this body yet.
Even when she presses that sweet kiss to his face, he does not release himself yet. There is still light in his eyes and he manages to swallow an occasional breath. His heart begins to hammer against his ribs as it tries desperately to push more oxygen into his bloodstream, yet there is none to be found. His lungs have given up. A dull ache forms across his temples as his skin begins to grow cold for the first time in many, many months.
He holds on until his knuckles are white and the world is but a pinprick of color, miles away from him now. Then, all at once, he lets the dam burst. Fire licks across his skin with a spitting hiss as it purges his every cell of the foxglove. It drags air down into his lungs and steadies his muscles as his eyes blink open.
And he is laughing.
Crowns stumbles up and gives his head a little shake as he tries to stifle the joyous fit of laughter bubbling from his chest. The flames calm and extinguish finally as he turns his bright blue gaze to her.
“Do you think I’m strong enough to bring you back from the dead?” he asks her quite suddenly, stepping close so his lips are a breath away from hers. “Should we find out?”
Even when she presses that sweet kiss to his face, he does not release himself yet. There is still light in his eyes and he manages to swallow an occasional breath. His heart begins to hammer against his ribs as it tries desperately to push more oxygen into his bloodstream, yet there is none to be found. His lungs have given up. A dull ache forms across his temples as his skin begins to grow cold for the first time in many, many months.
He holds on until his knuckles are white and the world is but a pinprick of color, miles away from him now. Then, all at once, he lets the dam burst. Fire licks across his skin with a spitting hiss as it purges his every cell of the foxglove. It drags air down into his lungs and steadies his muscles as his eyes blink open.
And he is laughing.
Crowns stumbles up and gives his head a little shake as he tries to stifle the joyous fit of laughter bubbling from his chest. The flames calm and extinguish finally as he turns his bright blue gaze to her.
“Do you think I’m strong enough to bring you back from the dead?” he asks her quite suddenly, stepping close so his lips are a breath away from hers. “Should we find out?”
you got me on my knees; i'm your one-man cult.