11-02-2017, 11:14 PM
You're looking at an absolute zero;
I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
She is the voice is reason – I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
When he cannot swallow his rage, when he cannot rein in the ferocity of the inferno emblazoning from his chest, she reaches beneath the blistering surface of his mind, roiling with wrath, with ire and seething anger, quieting the flame. He is fire, covered end to end with a crackling, roiling firestorm, but it has already begun to falter, drawn back into his burning core by sheer will at her urging. He is so consumed by his fury that her words are soft murmurings, an echo of sound that barely reaches beyond the boundary of the blaze. Her voice is enough to soothe him into drawing back, into finally tearing his gaze away from the pale creature – and soon, fleshless bone structure – that had bound her, that had put her on such sordid display, yearning for sin and for torment.
Instead, his gaze is searching hers – seeing the anguish, the bewilderment, the seething ire of her own frustration beneath the warmth of her amber gaze. The fire is soon nothing more than an ember, glowing along the ridge of his sloping spine, with little else but the unusual heat of his skin and the emblazoning fire ravenously consuming the forest to tell of the inferno that had burned from within.
His gaze does trace the soft dappling of her skin, the drying blood intermingling with russet fur, the sweat-slickened tangling of her mane across the curve of her neck – but it is fleeting; the ash is dusting the slope of her spine, draping over her tresses and clinging to her cheek as her eyes look imploringly into his own and there is no time to wait.
The smoke is heavy, cloaking even his own lungs in filth and ash, and so his broad cheek brushes across her shoulder, nudging her toward the southern border, where the sea of bristling, burning fire does part, end to end. It carves a path away from the darkness of the woodland, away from the sinful and insidious purpose that had brought her to a fate no one deserved to be given.
”Come,” he breathes across her cheek, leading her through the heavy smoke, ash and fire, away from Sylva, away from the purgatory that the pulse to his beating heart had nearly succumbed to.
OFFSPRING
another zealot with the weight of the fucking world.
@[Tantalize] @[Nayl] (Jeje made me post >:|)