03-01-2020, 03:27 PM
I hope he takes your filthy heart
and then he throws you away someday
and then he throws you away someday
It was a strange way of the universe, it seemed, that dark and light were always drawn to each other. He has always been so easily taken by the ones that are all he never was; or maybe because they are what he could have been if he had not allowed the bitterness of life to eat him alive. He likes the ones that are softer, the ones where their voices sound the way the stars look, with maybe a sharpness hidden beneath it all. It’s not because he found them easier; Dacian was never after easy. There was just something utterly fascinating when you held something that was everything you could never be.
“I’m not really interested in your father’s opinion,” he responds dryly, not even bother to ask or even wonder just who her father might be. The only thing that knowledge would change is it would further fuel this blossoming fascination with her – to learn that she had a familial link to Devonae. “I died once, a hundred years ago maybe, and now I’m back. Maybe death doesn’t seem so bad to those it continuously spits back out.”
She steps closer, and his gaze sharpens onto her. She is young, but she does not appear to be naive, and he wonders if she knows what she’s doing. If she knows she is stepping close to the monster’s waiting jaws, if she knows that once he swallows her up he will never release her. Boldly, he moves forward too, and this time, he touches her. His lips graze across her dark cheek, traveling up, until he is near her ear and he whispers in the low gravel of his voice, “You don’t want to know my secrets, Aurorae.”
“I’m not really interested in your father’s opinion,” he responds dryly, not even bother to ask or even wonder just who her father might be. The only thing that knowledge would change is it would further fuel this blossoming fascination with her – to learn that she had a familial link to Devonae. “I died once, a hundred years ago maybe, and now I’m back. Maybe death doesn’t seem so bad to those it continuously spits back out.”
She steps closer, and his gaze sharpens onto her. She is young, but she does not appear to be naive, and he wonders if she knows what she’s doing. If she knows she is stepping close to the monster’s waiting jaws, if she knows that once he swallows her up he will never release her. Boldly, he moves forward too, and this time, he touches her. His lips graze across her dark cheek, traveling up, until he is near her ear and he whispers in the low gravel of his voice, “You don’t want to know my secrets, Aurorae.”
Dacian