I call him the devil because he makes me want to sin
He hadn’t expected the time to come soon.
She had been so strong when they had first met, so unyielding beneath his masterful touch. He had thrilled at the challenge of her, loving the effort it took to bend her, to mold her, to shape her. He had loved her for that challenge, for the way she nearly bit back, actively fighting against the pressure of him.
But she does not fight now.
Now he applies an almost careless pressure and she nearly buckles. He is quiet as she spirals into her own spiral of shame, not goading her on but also not soothing her fears as they flare up like separate wildfires in the corners of her. He merely makes affirming noises in his throat, nodding his head thoughtfully.
She is a burden.
She is a disappointment.
She is nothing.
His shark eyes are bright when they turn to her again, and his crocodile smile spreads unkindly across his handsome face. “You are not worthy,” he spits, solidifying her own opinion of herself. “You have never been worthy of my love.” But she would be worthy of her death and he grows eager to taste it now.
It was time, he thinks. It was time to make his father proud.
“My father would have liked to watch this happen,” he muses, shrugging off the months and months of lies he has built up around her. “He always wanted me to take this final step.” He closes the distance between them, mouth lingering on the thin skin by her ear. “He would be so proud to know that you will be my first.” His lips curve upward, almost into a caricature of that lover’s smile he has faked for her for so long. Idly, he reaches over, smoothing her mane, running the knots out with his teeth.
Casually, he picks up the Fear again.
Casually, he begins to play, plucking the strings, increasing the tempo.
“I would tell you to run,” he whispers gently, “but it’s too late.”
And without waiting, he steps back from her, evaluating her with an appraising eye before he lunges. He lowers his heavy-horned head to bash into her side, his teeth snap, his ragged hooves seek to find purchase in her side. And he begins to laugh, the sound of his own enjoyment rising up in his throat the same way that he hopes the Fear will soon rise up in her own.
(and every time he knocks, I can't help but let him in)