He was going to fuckin figure this out, was going to ask her name - no, demand it. Demand everything. Fuck this place. And fuck these damn visions.
It was clear that she must know him the second their eyes met.
So maybe not all of them in his head were lies.
But then everything changed.
A shade of uncertainty passed over his eyes as a well of emotion filled hers. Something in him wanted to answer that, swelling painfully. He slowed, but only barely. He'd always had a one-track mind, after all, and nothing was going to stop him from getting to her. He's fucking unstoppable.
He was less sure as her wings changed, shifted to match him, and it pulled sharply at something in his chest, plucked it like a fuckin taut string. Made him ache in a new and baffling way. His head tilted to the side a little, like he might be able to avoid seeing those wings, looking like that, making him feel something totally fucking weird start unraveling chaotically inside him.
He had a hold on this. This wasn't gonna fuck with him.
Then there was more, and this time he couldn't help but halt in his steps, sucking a gasp of air. His eyes lifted from those gorgeous, really fuckin gorgeous wings, to stare into hers with a silent question. Beneath his mask, his brows furrowed, pulse kicking up. He could feel the heat, the warmth flowing through his body with a purpose. It felt...
He wasn't sure.
Something more than familiar.
But it made his face soften, and his breathing slow. He swayed forward, and stopped, lost his sight like a hazy illusion as they closed. What the fuck was she doing to him? But don't fuckin stop 'cause it feels really fuckin good. Things were happening inside him, smoothing tattered skin, righting fractured bone, stopping seeping blood. He groaned softly, black eyes opening slowly, first on the ground and then gradually to her face.
And that was the end of everything.
A beginning of something.
"Dovev."
He was started again, like a reboot, like a machine. Back on his one-track goal - her. Propelled forward by her soft voice, the sound of his name on her angel lips. Spoken like she had every right to. And you know what. He was pretty sure she knew the kind of man he was. Call it a hunch.
The kind that doesn't hesitate.
The kind that steps right up and takes what's his.
And one last step was all he needed, and his mouth claimed hers, stole that despicable name from her perfect lips. Took from her what he could never deserve, and how did he even know that? But it must have been true with how his damn chest hurt, how something in him felt desperate to steal this moment, however brief, because he knew it wouldn't last. He could never have this.
She'd leave again.
As she should.
Baby I loved you. But only for a night
Some moments can be worth more than lifetimes
