[mature] the everlasting ghost of what once was - kagerus - private

[Kagerus]

Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.

And in our wakefulness, the true dream of our existence is realized. For what is a dream except that which our heart most longs for... For tracing lips and soft-spoken words of love, for warmth in each other's embrace and for a serenity so bone-deep that the sensation transcends this reality, as if calm will follow us into our next lives, stubbornly committed to us. There is laughter and heartache in the breaths between our words. In the breeze that rolls across our backs like a blanket, there is a reminder of everything we've built together here; a kingdom, a refuge, a family.

She is my dream girl, and I think I've known it all along.
At least, when I try to remember what I dreamt of before her, all I can see is gold and white and blue.

I almost don't want to hear her speak for how otherworldly our reunion feels, for the way her running lips make me feel like the tallest mountain, the most winding trail; I could carry her upon my shoulders forever. There is no part of me I don't want her to journey to; there is no darkness so profound that I would not welcome her light into it. Vulnerability has never been my strong-suit and I don't think that it's hers, either - but there's something to be said about two people navigating through the darkness together, with only clasped hands to tether them. There's something to be said about love. About blindness. And about dreams.

Thank you, she breathes, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth, finding the most intimate of places even if any other could too. It doesn't matter where she touches me; wherever she chooses, it is a place most profound, because it is her touching me. It is always her. When her touch intensifies and builds to the climax of a needy pull, its intoxicating; instead of snapping me back to reality, it releases a flood of need into my veins that leaves me feeling at once flight and sluggish. A wordless tone fills the back of my throat with the sound of desire as she scampers away, clutching her wings to her side like a filly and swishing her tail ever so carefully.

I think this means I owe you. Simpering girl, with her knowing flutter of lashes and a coy step towards somewhere - else. I find that as I watch her swaying hips in my haze of love and ardor that I don't care where she goes. Instead of smiling, the neutrality of my face intensifies, ears pressing back as I take a step towards her - her, my wife, my angel, my darling.

"We'll see who owes who by the end of the night, sweetheart."

--

Her back is up against the wall, and what clothes we have on are admittedly disheveled, half off and twisted in the telltale signs of reuniting lovers. I have her pinned, for now, breathing hard as our eyes meet with a ferocity that some might not expect of sanctuary leaders. My tongue flits briefly across my lips, tasting blood where she's bitten me - naughty girl - and in between ragged breaths, a hand of mine slithers up her figure to find its place around the neat, pale flesh of her throat.

"What do you say that I give you that mark now, hmm?" My head tilts with the last syllable, hand tightening to emphasize my point. "Make us even?" My new scar has followed us here to our secret place, but I almost like it; like the way it makes Solace stare at me anew. Scars are hot, I can almost hear her saying; or maybe I can just feel the arousal between her legs.

Leaning toward her, I increase the pressure upon her throat with a twisted smile; but I stop just short of kissing her cupid lips, dropping my gaze towards her scar-laden collar bones, testaments to a past lover's triumphs. "And those..." I glance back up to her, my tone dropping from playful to sinister. "Those I will get rid of."

"Because you are mine, Solace."

"And I don't like sharing."

Kagerus

sweet nothing