11-10-2017, 01:52 AM
You're looking at an absolute zero;
I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
The animosity and trepidation seemingly melt away from her hardened, but deeply feminine features, but he is unwavering and steadfast in the truth that has fallen from his lips. Even if her apprehension has faded, while her callous and fiercely guarded heart is warmed by the heat of his fervent, affectionate touch, or by the tenderness of his confession murmured softly against her skin, he would never tire of chasing the darkness away from her vivid, burning amber gaze. The golden flecks bore into his own, a deep and sordid crimson staring back, and he can feel her seeping into the very depth of his soul – seeing the broken, fragmented pieces of his own weary heart, splintered by the unkind wrath of time, of loss, of devastation, just as hers had been.I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
The jagged, uneven pieces of her own heart seemingly meld into his own, and the breath that is exhaled softly along the gentle curve of her cheek is from a heart that is whole - a wholeness he has never known; a fullness he has never felt before. Where anger and suffering once wrought away the softness of her gaze, he can see beyond it – breaking away, piece by piece, she is exposed to him, vulnerable and bare and there is a deep, unflinching desire to covet her, to protect her with promise and with intent, but time has taught him how feeble and inadequate spoken word can be. A spoken promise is meant to be broken, and he cannot promise that he will not cause her heart anguish, that he will be all that she has been longing for all of the time –
But within the warmth of his breath mingling with her own as his whiskered lips brush hers, within the heat of his insistent, zealous kiss, there is a promise woven not with his voice, but with his presence. A vow to stand beside her, to guard her from whatever harm may come for her, to desire her and to remind her of it each moment that he can. Her own confession stirs the same flickering ember within his chest to grow, to blossom, spreading with the ferocity of wildfire through his body, though he suppresses it from emerging to the surface of his skin, where its darkness is marred with puckered, pink scars of old.
The anger, and the ire is forgotten. Instead, he is filled with desire for her, yearning to caress every intimate part of her, to cause her to writhe against his touch as he breathes his need for her into the entanglement of her long, knotted tresses. It is not long before the fire has reached his eyes, burning a deep and simmering scarlet, boring into hers with an effervescent, blistering longing as her soft and parted lips caress the plane of his cheek, where scarring lay over one eye, where his own crimped forelock lay across the broadness of his masculine face.
A shiver traverses the length of his spine, and with a deep and slow intake of breath, he is quieted – if only for a moment, focusing on the gentle hum of her voice reverberating through muscle and bone where her lips trail along the hard lines and ridges of his jaw and throat. His pulse has quickened, as his arousal has already begun to pool within his loin, stirring his desire for her with a fullness that he does not try to conceal from her. The way her voice quivers with emotion and raw, sensual need is enough to make him uneasy and restless, wanting to press his mouth into the crease of her hip, within the heat of her loin to rouse the deepest and most intimate part of her into ecstasy –
But he does not, pausing instead to seek her gaze as her soft and beautiful lips part to murmur to him that she is his, just as he is hers, and breathlessly he is left wondering if she can feel his heartbeat thrumming harder and faster as her gentle kiss touches the sensitive crook of his neck. A knot of emotion rises into the confinement of his throat as she professes she would follow him to whatever end;a vow she could never know the gravity of. He had spent so much of his time, so much of his life alone, isolated and even when his heart had known love, it had only known it in part. There were always conditions; clauses that kept him lonesome. She never loved him for every piece of him, for every flaw he inevitably had, for his fierce dedication to serving others - she had resented him for it all; she had come to harbor anger and envy in her heart (had she ever loved him at all?)
To have Tantalize by his side come whatever may and whatever he may choose is the only vow he could ever desire from her.
”I promise that I will,” he breathes, but it is a promise that he is certain he can keep – his love for her is endless, as tireless as the ravenous sea, as tumultuous as a summer storm. He would tell her every dawn, every dusk – ”and you are my happy ending.”
Her lips press against his mouth, and he deepens it with a fervor that can only speak of a fragment of the desire blistering inside of him, yearning to be set free, longing to take away the fear and humiliation of being put on display by her own flesh and blood – wanting her to think instead of him, of where his lips press harder, of where his teeth graze as blissful rapture blinds her with delight.
His mind is racing, thinking of the drying blood where she had been carved, dizzy with the scent of her need, mindful of the unborn life tucked away within her womb - selfish, he is to still want her, and though he can feel her desire growing with each soft, searching kiss, he cannot keep his worry at bay.
”You should rest; Tephra is just beyond the shoreline,” he murmurs softly across her cheek, though his lips brush along her jawline, kissing her throat and the tender column of her neck, while his desire only grows.
OFFSPRING
another zealot with the weight of the fucking world.
@[Tantalize]