[mature] right against the wall, leliana.

[vulgaris]

VulgariS

take me, take me back to your bed. i love you so much that it hurts my head.
say, i don't mind you under my skin. oh, let the bad parts in, the bad parts in.

He’d wandered off the mountain, stumbling and confused as to where he was even going to or where he had come from in the first place. Now he idly searches the forests for some sort of clue as to what he should be doing but he swears he’s passed this clearing at least a hundred times. How many days has he been lost in here? Any time he tries to remember anything, though, it feels like his head might split open from the agony of it. He’s become content not to recall anything at all.

His body is riddled with scrapes and scratches. Splashes of dried mud cling to his legs and oxidized blood smears across his lips from an earlier meal. Who knows what he ate, in all honesty. Maybe it was a deer, maybe it was a child. (Does he have children? He shrinks from the question in fear of another blinding flash of pain punishing him.) But then there is a sound of someone nearby and he supposes it would be worth his time to investigate. Not like he has anything better to do.

When his eyes see the delicate curves of her body, something tries to rear its head from the depths of all those memories locked up tight in the recesses of his mind. Something about the red of her reminds him of happiness. Red like passion, he thinks, but a dull ache threatens him not to continue down that path. Red like desire, he decides when he moves closer to her. He’s so careful to be quiet as he keeps his head low, eyes trained on the slope of her hips greedily. Even the idea of their skin meeting sets him on fire with want and hunger.

The moment consumes him entirely as he lifts himself up on top of her, holding her tight with his legs resting just past her hips. His teeth find the base of one wing to keep her beneath him as he forces himself inside her. The copper of her blood pours across his tongue and down his chin as he has his way with her, brutal and uncaring of her body. It feels like an eternity before he’s done, a shiver of satisfaction racing up his spine. His jaws slowly release her abused wing and he slides off of her at last. A sheen of sweat coats his body as he tries to catch his breath, but he’s careful not to look at her now.

Somehow, this feels wrong despite the monstrous flood of want when he saw her. There is still some other fraction of him crying out with need but he doesn’t know how to answer its call as its howling turns mournful. The taste of her blood turns bitter in his mouth.

@[leliana] this made me VERY SAD.