06-19-2017, 08:49 PM
Ellyse
I'm the only one who will walk across a fire for you.
it's only fear that makes you run, the demons that you're hiding from.
She is quiet for a moment, listening to the intensity of the water forcefully pressing against the multitude of lustrous boulders that protrude from the rapids, watching the way each one stands impervious and indifferent to the power and prowess of the torrent. Yet slowly, piece by piece – whittled away; smoothed out and eroded. In time, nothing will be left, and she cannot help but to wonder if the same will eventually happen to her. Heartache, wearing her down until there is little else but ashes and dust left – but the heavy lashes then close over her glistening eyes, and silently, she suppresses the twinge of longing within her chest, shaking it away as she so often does.When she finally opens her eyes, she can feel the heat of his stare boring into her, and finally, she glances towards him – seeking the icy blue of his gaze beneath the pale moonlight emerging in the dark, yet faintly starlit sky. The sun has long since set, tucked away behind the horizon towards the western hemisphere. The warmth of it is gone, too, and when he presses closer to her, she does not shy away – a shiver traverses the length of her spine when he does, and then, you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.
”I was foolish,” she murmurs thoughtfully, with a low, humorless chuckle bubbling from her throat as he stirs beside her; her feathered appendages move reflexively along his flank. When his teeth press against her withers, another shiver touches her nerve endings, and for a moment, she is holding her breath – uncertain, but she does not say anything. The tension seemingly eases away from her tightly coiled muscle, his breath soft and warm against her skin. It is comforting, if nothing else. ”I let myself lose a part of me in a fantasy,” her voice is soft; barely a whisper. ”a figment of my own imagination.”
A pause, and then, ”Perhaps it is better things are left unsaid.”
Where the tension has seemingly melted away from her, he is coiled even more tightly than she – anger bubbling beneath the surface of his skin, hot to the touch, and before she has even had a moment to contemplate it, her pale lips are pressed against his neck, brushing against the darkness of his skin, feeling his heart pulsating within. Her own heart is pounding then, surging within her breast, thrumming against its iron cage. His words are rife with ire and vexation, and beneath that, there is a familiar ache she has come to know all too well. He does not say it – but he does not have to.
She can feel it in the heat of his touch; the timbre of his voice – thick and heavy with emotion, held back by an invisible boundary.
Her slender neck is sweeping and curved, casting a glance towards him; a gold-flecked eye meeting with a polarizing blue. All the while, she is pressed against him, her touch lingering just over his skin, as an unfamiliar and long dormant longing rises to the surface.
”Maybe we could both use a distraction,” she murmurs, her heart pounding harder then.
when all your promises are gone, I'm the only one.
@[Dahmer]