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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    kylin;
    #3
    let my eyes be the rhythm, let my mind be your freedom

    Damn, he loved when she said his name. Her eyes shined with moisture, happy to finally see him again, and his smile widened, heartbeat quickening. He pushed himself into her, holding her close and drinking in her scent. He'd missed her, hated the distance. This felt so good to be against her, to have her lips marking kisses across his neck and making him hum with pleasure.

    But she stopped. Pulled back.

    Tears were on her cheeks and his chest tightened, the hunger in his eyes washing away. Ah, man, he'd messed up. "N-no," she stammered, her beautiful head shaking. She closed her eyes and he felt a bitter-sharp fear tingle into his blood. How would he fix this? How would he make it right so he could have her back again, back to her breathless smiles and adoration in her eyes, to her skin against his.

    There was pain in her hazel eyes as she admonished him, and he dropped his eyes to the ground at their feet, his shoulders wilting. His wings drooped, fluffed oddly in anxiety. He'd hurt her. He hated that he hurt her, and she didn't even know about Umbra. He hurt her by leaving, and being away. Distant as he slept at Father's side instead of hers. And now he'd hurt her in the way he'd come back, pushing himself on her and expecting her to still want him back.

    "I'm sorry," he mumbled miserably, wanting them to be okay again. Needing them to be okay again. She still didn't know Father had talked to him, tried to teach him not to want her in this way. He wasn't sure he should tell her, though. He didn't want her angry at Father for trying to help. But... even still, here he was choosing to ignore it. For her. He shouldn't ignore what Father says.

    "Sorry, Kylin." His eyes almost lifted, found the graceful curve of her shoulder and the enticing line of her throat, and he dropped his gaze again. He swallowed. Still wanted her. Shouldn't want her. "Tell me how to fix it," he whispered, begged her. He didn't know how to make this right again, how to make her happy with him again. He missed her. But he'd hurt her. How could he make it up to her?

    Quotes are speech. Italics are telepathy
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    Messages In This Thread
    kylin; - by Kharon - 06-23-2017, 01:30 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kylin - 06-23-2017, 02:15 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kharon - 06-23-2017, 04:52 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kylin - 06-23-2017, 05:07 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kharon - 06-24-2017, 02:44 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kylin - 06-24-2017, 04:23 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kharon - 06-25-2017, 12:54 AM
    RE: kylin; - by Kylin - 06-27-2017, 11:45 AM
    RE: kylin; - by Kharon - 06-27-2017, 08:41 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kylin - 06-28-2017, 07:27 AM
    RE: kylin; - by Kharon - 06-28-2017, 02:50 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kylin - 06-28-2017, 03:19 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kharon - 06-28-2017, 04:34 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kylin - 06-28-2017, 04:59 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kharon - 06-29-2017, 06:00 PM
    RE: kylin; - by Kylin - 06-30-2017, 03:45 PM



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