02-03-2017, 01:22 AM
Stillwater
Each time she said his name, it changed; her voice, her tone. Her meaning. And each time hit him harder. Buried deeper into his soul. Wedged itself in his mind. Stillwater. She made his breath shallow, his pulse quicken. He knew these responses, knew them from prey. But not from himself. Never from him. She was causing something new -flipping a switch, shining a light in to darkness- showing him another side he didn't know he truly had. He was always cool, so cool and still and calm. Calculating. As was his nature.
She was stirring him, setting a burner beneath and watching him rise to a simmer. Making the dark pools of his eyes heat with a different hunger. One like his victims had. It was uncontrollable. It was maddening.
It was amazing.
"How do I leave this. How do I leave you," she said, and fell quiet. You don't, he almost said. Never leave, stay forever. But she had to. Had family that missed her. Worried for her. And he wasn't really someone to keep, was he? Wasn't the type to have one stick around. Or live. Relationships were foreign concepts for him; he heats them, riles them, makes them mad with passion. Then devours them. They tasted the best that way. She couldn't stop it, no one could. How long would she stay when he always smelled like other women? She wouldn't. She would stiffen up and run just as Nayl had. She could never understand, and he'd never expect her to.
Her head sank into his lap, across his legs, and his nose immediately buried into her soft hair. His mouth teased the dark currents, allowing her the silence she took, her mind swimming with thoughts that consumed her as he enjoyed every electrifying sensation, every intoxicating smell. He could drown in this moment. Fill his lungs with this foreignness and cease to exist. If he could only stop time and hold her captive in this moment, permanently pleased with him. Not fearing him. Not hating what he was.
"That is a lot of maybes," she finally said, sitting up to meet his gaze. Awe, wonder, confusion, desire; which one would she see there? "But one of those maybes is wrong." Her lips met him again, and his eyes closed as she gently explored the lines of his face, savoring this with her. "I'm greedy. I will come back to you." He was foolish to flare with hope at the promise in her voice. The underlying need.
Maybe he needed her too.
Another maybe. She didn't like those.
There was an intensity in her eyes that drew him in, staring deep and waiting for more of her voice. Like a snake hypnotized, waiting to follow her movements without hesitation. "Will you worry about me when I'm gone?" She touched his hair, he touched her cheek. She buried deeper into his side, pressing closer and surely feeling his heart pound against her, which only made it kick faster. "I will worry about you, Stillwater."
He pulled back enough to tilt her chin up to look at him.
I already do. I am already worried for you. I am already worried you won't return again. I am already missing you. I worry that- He tensed suddenly, pupils shrinking in distress before he could close them. He realized what he said. He was solitary, made that way, would always be; he couldn't miss anyone. Why would he? But he was aware of the truth, and he swallowed the implications. He said he already missed her. Already worried for her. Worried she wouldn't come back to him. And he remembered..
He could not lie.
His face turned away from her. Gathered his breath, tried to steady his pulse. Suddenly, he couldn't touch her. Suddenly, they were too close, too suffocating. He stood and paced away, straight for the exit. To the water, he needed the water. He jerked to a halt, afraid she might think she'd done something wrong. Afraid she wouldn't realize he was coming undone on his own somehow. Everything was new, confusing. It wasn't supposed to be this way. All wrong.
I need- I'll be right back.
But he only made it as far as the door before he was turning back again. Before he was making a mistake. Before he was choosing fire over water. He sank down again in one fluid movement, eyes bright with need and dark with heat. His black rolled over her blue like the night tide, dragged her down into this wild current with him. Kisses flowed across her neck, and her throat, and her cheek, her face, her throat again. He moaned softly against her tender flesh.
Luster.. He nipped at her, tugged at her skin but kept the surface in tact. Could she see how bad he wanted this? Wanted her? Craved her -and her blood. This was dangerous. He should stop, he could hurt her. But his lips continued to find more of her until he was coming up for air, his breathing heavy. He closed his eyes over the heat in them, that new heat. The fire. Her fire. He swallowed again, wishing for the water to cool him, calm him. He meant to say he was sorry, meant to apologize for doing this.
But he could not lie.
Come back to me, Luster, he whispered instead.
She was stirring him, setting a burner beneath and watching him rise to a simmer. Making the dark pools of his eyes heat with a different hunger. One like his victims had. It was uncontrollable. It was maddening.
It was amazing.
"How do I leave this. How do I leave you," she said, and fell quiet. You don't, he almost said. Never leave, stay forever. But she had to. Had family that missed her. Worried for her. And he wasn't really someone to keep, was he? Wasn't the type to have one stick around. Or live. Relationships were foreign concepts for him; he heats them, riles them, makes them mad with passion. Then devours them. They tasted the best that way. She couldn't stop it, no one could. How long would she stay when he always smelled like other women? She wouldn't. She would stiffen up and run just as Nayl had. She could never understand, and he'd never expect her to.
Her head sank into his lap, across his legs, and his nose immediately buried into her soft hair. His mouth teased the dark currents, allowing her the silence she took, her mind swimming with thoughts that consumed her as he enjoyed every electrifying sensation, every intoxicating smell. He could drown in this moment. Fill his lungs with this foreignness and cease to exist. If he could only stop time and hold her captive in this moment, permanently pleased with him. Not fearing him. Not hating what he was.
"That is a lot of maybes," she finally said, sitting up to meet his gaze. Awe, wonder, confusion, desire; which one would she see there? "But one of those maybes is wrong." Her lips met him again, and his eyes closed as she gently explored the lines of his face, savoring this with her. "I'm greedy. I will come back to you." He was foolish to flare with hope at the promise in her voice. The underlying need.
Maybe he needed her too.
Another maybe. She didn't like those.
There was an intensity in her eyes that drew him in, staring deep and waiting for more of her voice. Like a snake hypnotized, waiting to follow her movements without hesitation. "Will you worry about me when I'm gone?" She touched his hair, he touched her cheek. She buried deeper into his side, pressing closer and surely feeling his heart pound against her, which only made it kick faster. "I will worry about you, Stillwater."
He pulled back enough to tilt her chin up to look at him.
I already do. I am already worried for you. I am already worried you won't return again. I am already missing you. I worry that- He tensed suddenly, pupils shrinking in distress before he could close them. He realized what he said. He was solitary, made that way, would always be; he couldn't miss anyone. Why would he? But he was aware of the truth, and he swallowed the implications. He said he already missed her. Already worried for her. Worried she wouldn't come back to him. And he remembered..
He could not lie.
His face turned away from her. Gathered his breath, tried to steady his pulse. Suddenly, he couldn't touch her. Suddenly, they were too close, too suffocating. He stood and paced away, straight for the exit. To the water, he needed the water. He jerked to a halt, afraid she might think she'd done something wrong. Afraid she wouldn't realize he was coming undone on his own somehow. Everything was new, confusing. It wasn't supposed to be this way. All wrong.
I need- I'll be right back.
But he only made it as far as the door before he was turning back again. Before he was making a mistake. Before he was choosing fire over water. He sank down again in one fluid movement, eyes bright with need and dark with heat. His black rolled over her blue like the night tide, dragged her down into this wild current with him. Kisses flowed across her neck, and her throat, and her cheek, her face, her throat again. He moaned softly against her tender flesh.
Luster.. He nipped at her, tugged at her skin but kept the surface in tact. Could she see how bad he wanted this? Wanted her? Craved her -and her blood. This was dangerous. He should stop, he could hurt her. But his lips continued to find more of her until he was coming up for air, his breathing heavy. He closed his eyes over the heat in them, that new heat. The fire. Her fire. He swallowed again, wishing for the water to cool him, calm him. He meant to say he was sorry, meant to apologize for doing this.
But he could not lie.
Come back to me, Luster, he whispered instead.
go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it