11-18-2018, 08:27 PM
If I never wash the sand from my feet...
He was oddly beginning to feel a little unappreciated here. Weird, right? Everyone back home had loved him. It really sucked to be here, in this body, in this place he was so unfamiliar with, and without anyone he really knew. Everything sucked a hell of a lot and he tried to keep it from reaching his friendly face.
But really, it was so damn miserable and today wasn't making it any better.
The way she approached him almost instinctively felt like a threat in some way though he hadn't been given any reason to feel that way. Even still, his smile held firmly to his face, eyes delighted, and meanwhile, with each step nearer to him she took he was weaving his unseen magic around her. He twisted and tied it into a noose around her pretty throat, into a perfect bridle over her face and head, holding it all just inches away from her and ready to bind her so completely should he choose to.
He held still as she reached out and touched him, his hand loosely holding the rope of his magic. Never before had he needed it as a defense and it upset him deeply that he'd had to wrap this about her this way. It was meant to be fun. Enjoyable. Amusing. But still. He held it off her for now, waiting, watching his brother for a reaction to his woman coming to touch him this way, coming to test him for something he didn't understand.
He was further unimpressed with his big brother's lack of care, feeling an irritation surface as it seemed to him that Ivar had instead joined her on some inside joke against him, that he couldn't possibly understand.
His smile remained, practiced and second-nature, though his eyes had a new glint to them he'd never really had to feel before. It was disgusting that his playful magic had just turned into a defense as he slid his gaze to the woman, her touch not out of adoration and play but from something else that dug deep into a lineage he wasn't aware of. For some reason, he felt she was not supposed to touch him, and he settled the tethers of his magic on her.
"You like the way I feel, baby?" he murmured sweetly, letting the desire - for what, for what - sink into her. He needed to ground her though, give her something to want so achingly badly, so he tied the other end to his brother. That seemed more appropriate than the nearest tree. He wasn't in the mood to disgrace her or embarrass her. And he no longer felt comfortable with her attention on himself. She would desire Ivar instead. Let his brother deal with his woman.
He finally lost his smile.
Stared blankly at this man that was somehow his brother.
He fucking hated it here.
He turned to leave them, letting his magic slowly untangle to return to him as he walked away.
But really, it was so damn miserable and today wasn't making it any better.
The way she approached him almost instinctively felt like a threat in some way though he hadn't been given any reason to feel that way. Even still, his smile held firmly to his face, eyes delighted, and meanwhile, with each step nearer to him she took he was weaving his unseen magic around her. He twisted and tied it into a noose around her pretty throat, into a perfect bridle over her face and head, holding it all just inches away from her and ready to bind her so completely should he choose to.
He held still as she reached out and touched him, his hand loosely holding the rope of his magic. Never before had he needed it as a defense and it upset him deeply that he'd had to wrap this about her this way. It was meant to be fun. Enjoyable. Amusing. But still. He held it off her for now, waiting, watching his brother for a reaction to his woman coming to touch him this way, coming to test him for something he didn't understand.
He was further unimpressed with his big brother's lack of care, feeling an irritation surface as it seemed to him that Ivar had instead joined her on some inside joke against him, that he couldn't possibly understand.
His smile remained, practiced and second-nature, though his eyes had a new glint to them he'd never really had to feel before. It was disgusting that his playful magic had just turned into a defense as he slid his gaze to the woman, her touch not out of adoration and play but from something else that dug deep into a lineage he wasn't aware of. For some reason, he felt she was not supposed to touch him, and he settled the tethers of his magic on her.
"You like the way I feel, baby?" he murmured sweetly, letting the desire - for what, for what - sink into her. He needed to ground her though, give her something to want so achingly badly, so he tied the other end to his brother. That seemed more appropriate than the nearest tree. He wasn't in the mood to disgrace her or embarrass her. And he no longer felt comfortable with her attention on himself. She would desire Ivar instead. Let his brother deal with his woman.
He finally lost his smile.
Stared blankly at this man that was somehow his brother.
He fucking hated it here.
He turned to leave them, letting his magic slowly untangle to return to him as he walked away.
Lochwood
