She doesn’t deserve him, and it is glaringly obvious in moments like this. His touch is sweet and soft against her skin, and when she reaches into his mind, his thoughts are similar. Everything about him was pure and faultless, and everything about her was entirely flawed. She hasn’t been quite right since the moment she had been born, and she’s been fighting that feeling of trying to belong and at the same time trying to not care, for as long as she can remember. She wants to be like the rest of them, and yet whenever given the chance, she simply takes and takes. She becomes closed off and cold, and she falls back into a cycle of hurting and not caring.
But beneath his touch, she becomes something else entirely. He melts her into something more mild, something almost likable. She can feel the difference in the way he kisses her, and slowly, without realizing it, she can feel herself slipping. When his lips slide across her skin, when his words breathe into her ears, she almost, for a moment, thinks that she could be herself with him. The further back his touch lingers, the more she can feel her already delicate hold on her control begin to slip, until, finally, it clatters to the ground.
By the time he is on top of her, she is too lost in her own thoughts to even consider reading his. Her silver skin shivers beneath him, her mind clouded and dazed, but the only discernible thought she has is how badly she wants him, how badly she wants this. Shimmering scales and glowing stars tangled together until they are one and the same, and when his movements make her body quake and quiver beneath him, when the breathless moans leave her lips, she is powerless to stop it.
Her breathing comes in soft gasps when they are finished, her legs trembling as he still caresses her from on top of her, the tangled strands of her mane clinging to her dark neck. When he slides from her she immediately presses into his side, both of their bodies damp and hot against each other, reaching up to kiss and taste the sweatied skin beneath his mane. ”I love you too, Ophanim.” They leave her tongue before she can hold them back, but, still riding that euphoric high, she can’t find it in herself to pretend she doesn’t.
