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ASHLEY
There is the moment in time when you realize that life for your is quite possibly over. For Ashley that moment was now.
The ginger man was settling into a bad habit of eating his cake and eating it too. Within the crystal clear waters that made their way in, around, and under Ischia’s coast, he swam. The plague of Marlyn was constantly behind him, and he kicked back his crimson fins, forcing the water over his scales, pushing himself deeper and faster into the depths.
Solace.
Peace.
He would get neither.
Instead, what he was left with was the guilt and the nightmare of those eyes. Those sad soulful eyes looking at him, bidding him to say the words that refused to be uttered out loud. Instead, they fell like a lead balloon at his feet, like a ball and chain. He was prisoner in his own mind, and so he ran to the water to find his freedom.
Freedom.
Peace.
They weren’t his for the taking.
Ashley snorted at the thought, a burning sensation singing his nostrils with a curse—uttered underwater, it came out as nothing more than a masked blurble of bubbles. He swims on; the heaviness of his mind consuming him.
Ashley had used her. His own angst had pulled him in the direction of anyone who would listen—any impressionable soul that he could take for his own. Marlyn had been there. And she’d been perfect. She was the one he could take—but he did not count on having those feelings. It had been meant for one night. Not for Keeps. Instead, he had given her his soul and left himself with nothing.
And that tortured him.
A former King, made a slave at a woman’s feet.
And so he swims, with her ever on his mind. He figured that his child must have been born by now. But he has not been back.
Why should he?
How can he?
The ginger man was settling into a bad habit of eating his cake and eating it too. Within the crystal clear waters that made their way in, around, and under Ischia’s coast, he swam. The plague of Marlyn was constantly behind him, and he kicked back his crimson fins, forcing the water over his scales, pushing himself deeper and faster into the depths.
Solace.
Peace.
He would get neither.
Instead, what he was left with was the guilt and the nightmare of those eyes. Those sad soulful eyes looking at him, bidding him to say the words that refused to be uttered out loud. Instead, they fell like a lead balloon at his feet, like a ball and chain. He was prisoner in his own mind, and so he ran to the water to find his freedom.
Freedom.
Peace.
They weren’t his for the taking.
Ashley snorted at the thought, a burning sensation singing his nostrils with a curse—uttered underwater, it came out as nothing more than a masked blurble of bubbles. He swims on; the heaviness of his mind consuming him.
Ashley had used her. His own angst had pulled him in the direction of anyone who would listen—any impressionable soul that he could take for his own. Marlyn had been there. And she’d been perfect. She was the one he could take—but he did not count on having those feelings. It had been meant for one night. Not for Keeps. Instead, he had given her his soul and left himself with nothing.
And that tortured him.
A former King, made a slave at a woman’s feet.
And so he swims, with her ever on his mind. He figured that his child must have been born by now. But he has not been back.
Why should he?
How can he?
and the girls caressed me down ughhh that's that lovin' sound
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