[private] Out with the golden we sew // Rapt

[Kagerus]

Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.

(He's addictive, in more ways than one. She finds herself lost in his pretty gold skin, and the way his lips trace her spine and soothe her to sleep when the nightmares worry at her mind. And when he comes with her - often, as often as she can manage - the dreams are sweeter, lovelier, indeed a kind of rapture that she is wont to seek, again and again. Because with him, it's simple. He lives to please her - to watch her face contort in pleasure in that other-world, and to feel the heat between his legs with his finger tips, with his tongue. And her, well, she lives for more than this, but what everyone sees is just her mask - the part of her that exists in the real world, and not with him, Beyond.)

Tears streak my face, cries burning my lungs.

(But as the months passed, their dreams together gradually darkened, tainted by a growth that neither of them imagined possible. Suddenly his lips on her skin felt more like razors than kisses, and when he looked at her, she couldn't help but want to look away. He started asking her why she spent more time in Hyaline and less time with him in their thicket, and she never could find an answer that quite satisfied either of them - but it was rare enough for Rapt to ask her anything, and so they fell apart, slowly, but apart all the same.)

He's not here, in the thicket, and I won't be able to summon the courage to come looking for him again. Or maybe it's the strength that I'll lack - of character, of body, of mind.
I call out for him, desperate, hating the news I bear, but somehow, hating him more even than that.

Kagerus

sweet nothing

@[rapt]