[private] All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade away again [Offspring]

[Offspring]

You're looking at an absolute zero;
I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.

  He does not know what to say, or what to do.

  She is recoiling from his touch, no longer the scalding, blistering inferno it had been, and quietly, he withdraws, tucking his chin closer to his chest as the darkness of his crimson gaze studies her. The tension of her rigid posture and tightened muscle do not go unnoticed, and quietly, he traces the lithe shape of her body with his eyes – the gentle ridges and curves, the dried blood and glistening, open wounds, and softly, the anger within him is flickering. The ember remains, though he is forced to swallow it, to subdue the fire that yearned to reach the surface of his marred flesh to make itself known.

  She had seen what he is capable of, and it was not only her safety on his mind when he had set fire to the thicket that she had become bound by with dry and brittle vine – the ferocity of his protective impulse had been unmistakable; his heart cared for her more than he ever hoped it could (and thought of it is unnerving, causing him to shift uncomfortably before her). There is a moment of regret shining in her dark, amber-lit gaze, but it is fleeting, and soon she is rife with fury once more, lashing out at him verbally, further weaving a web of perplexity within his mind.

  ”I would never say that,” he murmurs, the ridge of his brow furrowed as the fluttering ember inside of his chest manages to reach the depth of his eyes, boring red as his cheek is tilted and his head is lowered, seeking to catch her averted gaze, to insist that she look at him. ”I never would have left you, Tantalize, not bound and left to –“ but he cannot say it; she is trembling and he cannot bring himself to speak of the sinister and insidious display that had been made of her.

  His anger simmers, still.

  But there would be time for his anger later –

  She is quivering with rage, but she is broken, frightened, and embarrassed, and he presses closer to her as the broadness of his chest touches her dappled shoulder, while the thick girth of his neck drapes over her own, drawing her closer to him – tightly to him. His cheek brushes along the tangle of her tresses, ignoring the bramble and briar entangled within the ringlets, feeling her rapid and thrumming pulse against his throat.

  We will be fine on our own.

  We.

  ”It was not me, Liz,” he murmurs huskily, his voice rough and ragged with emotion, the thought of her parted and touched and tortured against her will causing a knot to rise into his throat – the thought of their union, blossoming within her womb, while she shivered in terror and writhed in distress is unbearable. ”I do not know what sort of wicked magic he is capable of, but it was not me. I would not leave you - I promise you,” and softly, quietly, he draws his neck away from her own, as his lips press against her cheek. ”Can’t you see ..? I love you. I'm not going anywhere.”

OFFSPRING

another zealot with the weight of the fucking world.

@[Tantalize]