so pay attention now; daemron

[Daemron]

Never enough – the thought ensnares his mind and enslaves his body as she veers into his touch. They are a collision of flame and fury, feral with a hunger for one another gone so long unsatiated. Her sudden loss of control is everything he craves from her – everything he needs – and in the calamity of their unleashed emotions, Daemron finds he can no longer consider the earth his gravity. It was her. It had always been her. The pull of her is so strong that the space he creates between them nearly obliterates him. But he must have her answer him now, while she was herself; without artifice and wroth with feeling. A marvel of indocility. ‘Do you need so badly to hear me say it, Daemron?’ His name on soft lips, the vehemence an undercurrent to the wild rage that flares in her ice-blue gaze. ‘Is that what you want?’ He doesn’t feel himself stopping in his tracks, but suddenly he is still as stone. She must know that’s exactly what he wants. It’s all he’s ever wanted from her. ‘I love you, and it’ll kill me.’ His breath flares, lungs raking cold winter air over the coals of his heart. Her confession is delivered alongside a mantra he has come to loathe, for they echo words she’d spoken to him years ago – love does not hurt. It kills. You’ll kill me. In his mind, Daemron has heard them over and over again. You’ll kill me. He loathes it even more now, detesting the way she uses it to minimize the fact that she loves him – barring him from the relief that the former might otherwise have given him. With a rough shake of his willowed head he stalks nearer again, the sharp edges of him casting imposing shadows across her antlered countenance. “Stop using that bullshit as an excuse,” he demands, the grey of his eyes hard upon her. “All these years – have you felt alive, Pyxis?” His voice comes low and rough. “Because I haven’t.” He laughs humorlessly, the gravity of her making his very bones ache. “So I really couldn’t care less what you think, because trying to live without you is what’s killing me.” He moves purposefully now, closing the distance between them with a fiery resolve. Reaching for her, he traces the line of her jaw to press a heated murmur against the softness of her cheek. “I’ve never stopped loving you.” Perhaps she would sense the tenderness beneath the tension – surprising in its gentleness and revealed only in his touch – for his voice is still raw with years of frustration. “And I’ll be damned if I stop now.” Then, quieter (a plea) –“I need you to let me.” daemron lost to the hunt as I was to you