she'll lie and steal and cheat and beg you from her knees
make you thinks she means it this time
His words should hurt, maybe, but they don’t. Not really. She had pushed him away for long, could she really be surprised that he had finally stayed away? Part of her recoils from that truth, but she brushes it off, determined to not let it derail the moment that they are sharing now, soft and sweet—golden and silver. “It wouldn’t have mattered,” she glances up at him, a sad smile curving her mouth and then dissolving into humor. “I am extremely fast.” A trait she learned from a lifetime of running. A lifetime of trying to escape the kind of vulnerability she felt right now, bared and exposed before him.
“Faster than you, at least.”
She smirks, a playful glint in her eye, exhaling at the feel of him roaming over the curves of her.
How many nights had she dreamt of him curled around her like this? How many nights had she woken up, unsure of whether it was a dream or a nightmare? The feel of him so achingly perfect, devastatingly right as it presses into her. Her heart squeezes in her chest, throat tightening with emotion.
It suddenly makes sense—all of it.
Why her father broke the world apart in the name of love.
Why her mother let him.
She would break for Daemron, she thinks. She’d shatter right here and now, just to pay for this moment.
She’d spend the rest of her life trying to piece it together again for the chance to shatter once more.
But she doesn’t break—not yet—and she just savors the impossibility of the quiet, the way that it cradles the two of them, nestled away from the rest of the world. “You smell horrible,” she teases, her voice soft enough to expose the truth. She twists to press lips to his jaw, to his neck, nibbling at the willow of his mane. “You smell like home,” she admits, loving and loathing the knife as it presses through her ribs.
“I guess it was about time I came back for a prison break,” her tone remains light, but it hurts to think of all of the time they’ve wasted in both fear and hate. All of the time running. All of the time avoiding.
“I do,” her voice trails off, “but I wouldn’t know the first place to start looking.”
she'll tear a hole in you, the one you can't repair
but I still love her, I don't really care
