11-23-2020, 01:38 AM
CrownS
He wants to pick her thoughts apart and pin them up on display like perfectly preserved insects, but the mystery of her is too great. To simply wonder and guess keeps him intrigued even when she tries to shed the cold in favor of the shore. So he sits back and observes only what she is willing to offer him - practiced smiles and perfect hostess laughter. She swallows whatever she truly feels whole and returns the questions back to him.
He has never named anything, nothing other than the flower-birds Isilya had shown him. But they were simple creatures and naming them had been obvious. Crowns shifts his weight as he weighs his options and curls his wing over her back to fully blanket her in the raw heat of him. Something in him snaps its teeth and says to call her ‘Mine’, but the word tastes all wrong when he balances it on the tip of his tongue.
“Trouble, maybe. Or Reckless. What do you prefer?” he asks as he curiously touches his lips to one of the barbs growing along the back of her neck. They are sharper than he anticipated and a bead of blood swells from his lip. He makes no move to clear the drop from him. Instead, he turns his head to admire all the ink back darkness between the trees around them. He thinks if he holds his breath, he might see one of the monsters who lurk in his nightmares, something beautiful and terrible all at once.
“Do you always lie this much, or is there someone you’re honest with?” he asks in a whisper without looking back to her.
He has never named anything, nothing other than the flower-birds Isilya had shown him. But they were simple creatures and naming them had been obvious. Crowns shifts his weight as he weighs his options and curls his wing over her back to fully blanket her in the raw heat of him. Something in him snaps its teeth and says to call her ‘Mine’, but the word tastes all wrong when he balances it on the tip of his tongue.
“Trouble, maybe. Or Reckless. What do you prefer?” he asks as he curiously touches his lips to one of the barbs growing along the back of her neck. They are sharper than he anticipated and a bead of blood swells from his lip. He makes no move to clear the drop from him. Instead, he turns his head to admire all the ink back darkness between the trees around them. He thinks if he holds his breath, he might see one of the monsters who lurk in his nightmares, something beautiful and terrible all at once.
“Do you always lie this much, or is there someone you’re honest with?” he asks in a whisper without looking back to her.
you got me on my knees; i'm your one-man cult.