01-16-2017, 08:33 PM
He wants to go. To find a cave to hide in and to snuff out the world and the cruel tricks it insists upon testing him with. Was he simply made as a cruel joke, destined to suffer and be a martyr to all the unjust existence that is his life?
The mare -his queen- still remains by his side as he attempts to steel himself against the honeyed words that drip from her perfect lips, threatening all the damned rsolve he has. He feels the heat, the vibrations, cruelly teasing him. She smells of honeysuckle and sage and it fills him with weakness and desire. Jaw is clenched and working to remain motionless when all he wants more in this word is to grab her and hold her and melt into her skin.
(he wants this more than life itself)
Unseeing eyes play it all out in his mind but he remains motionless save for the way the salt sea breeze lifts his dark mane up and over the thickness of his neck. Mercury filled pools blink rapidly to clear away the images that sends his heart racing.
She begins again, much too close and much too gently, with words that could have been placed among the constellations. It is when she says the word 'you', the silver of his eyes tear from the horizon and he clutches her in his gaze. The way desperation floats just beyond the amber of her eyes, the way her voice seems to quiver at it's very edges.
He needs her.
He wants her.
And still like the great redwoods, he stands unwavering, listening.
The dark stallion quiets the rugged breathes that he is suddenly aware of. He calms his nerves, gives nothing away. But her question, the syllables that tip toe from her tongue, dissolve him. He wants to tell her what she wants to hear. He wants to tell her yes for that is what she thinks she deserves but no, she deserves so much more.
And he is a man in the very most savage, selfish, and primal way.
The stoic unwavering features soften as he is the one who starts to crumble under the beautiful orange and red gaze. "No." He is the weak one. There was no way he could have denied the rush of emotion that surges like a broken dam. Lior is turning to her, facing her, pleading with glinting gray eyes. He would never cross her, betray her, hurt her.
He would also never lie to her and now stands tall and shameless in her shadow.
The mare -his queen- still remains by his side as he attempts to steel himself against the honeyed words that drip from her perfect lips, threatening all the damned rsolve he has. He feels the heat, the vibrations, cruelly teasing him. She smells of honeysuckle and sage and it fills him with weakness and desire. Jaw is clenched and working to remain motionless when all he wants more in this word is to grab her and hold her and melt into her skin.
(he wants this more than life itself)
Unseeing eyes play it all out in his mind but he remains motionless save for the way the salt sea breeze lifts his dark mane up and over the thickness of his neck. Mercury filled pools blink rapidly to clear away the images that sends his heart racing.
She begins again, much too close and much too gently, with words that could have been placed among the constellations. It is when she says the word 'you', the silver of his eyes tear from the horizon and he clutches her in his gaze. The way desperation floats just beyond the amber of her eyes, the way her voice seems to quiver at it's very edges.
He needs her.
He wants her.
And still like the great redwoods, he stands unwavering, listening.
The dark stallion quiets the rugged breathes that he is suddenly aware of. He calms his nerves, gives nothing away. But her question, the syllables that tip toe from her tongue, dissolve him. He wants to tell her what she wants to hear. He wants to tell her yes for that is what she thinks she deserves but no, she deserves so much more.
And he is a man in the very most savage, selfish, and primal way.
The stoic unwavering features soften as he is the one who starts to crumble under the beautiful orange and red gaze. "No." He is the weak one. There was no way he could have denied the rush of emotion that surges like a broken dam. Lior is turning to her, facing her, pleading with glinting gray eyes. He would never cross her, betray her, hurt her.
He would also never lie to her and now stands tall and shameless in her shadow.