we scream our very souls free
In this moment, time seems to hover both superfluous and eternal in the same breath. Everything stills with the exception of the two of them, impossible black entwined so sinuously with rich grey and blue. And yet, somehow, black presses even closer, as though the pair might truly meld into one effervescent being. As though they might somehow defy all laws of magic and physics.
Here in the darkness, in a cave share only by the two of them, known by none other, anything seems possible.
As shared warmth suffuses normally cool flesh, Haunt teases lips over gray skin, seeking more. Ever more. The shadow is not certain more would ever be enough. Not for them. The feeling of blunt teeth against jet strands and arching crest is divine, and Haunt hungers for more, almost wishing for a bite to those regrettably equine teeth. The sharpened teeth tucked so precariously behind their own lips nibble teasingly, dragging a sharp line. Not quite enough to draw blood, but enough to feel it bubble beneath the surface.
In a low, husky whisper, Misfit answers the question, and Haunt smiles against his skin in wicked pleasure. The creature doesn’t answer immediately, instead nibbling rewarding little carresses along along the vulnerable hollows of Misfit’s throat.
Finally, in a nearly inaudible whisper against Misfit’s skin, Haunt replies, “You have me. You’ve always had me. And I you.”
