05-06-2019, 11:00 PM
you've got to move slowly, take and eat my body like it's holy.
Maybe, he says, and she wonders if she’s supposed to just accept the possibility that he may be the living dead. Perhaps her notion of what that means is only fueled by her night terrors and the scary stories she used to share with her sisters though. She wonders if a ghost boy is just the kind of friend she needs in her overcast life. But there is little time to dwell on the question as he pushes the smell of earth and pine from them, replaces the trees with cave walls and the smell of salt hanging heavy in the air. The serpent girl tenses and takes a step back from him, startled by the new setting and the change in the air around them.
Her sage eyes watch the dream world shudder and ripple at his words before he steadies it once again. It isn’t real, he assures her, but her muscles continue to tremble as she waits for the forest to come rushing back to her. The cove and the sea are foreign whereas the shade of the trees is a second home, a shelter in even the greatest storm. Meeting a beautiful ghost and being thrust into his dreams of seaside caves is too much for a fearful thing like her.
But she doesn’t confess such weakness. Sabbath forces herself to focus on his amethyst eyes when he addresses her, keeps her chin tilted down just an inch so that her spiral horn remains poised and ready. Life has taught her that the most wonderful things are often facades, gilded monsters all waiting to snap their teeth. After all, her mother had trusted her father’s handsome face and what good had it done her?
His smile draws her in though and she wants to press her lips to his, to nurture that tender-soft center of her heart despite the way it quivers. Is she real? She laughs softly at the question and moves closer to him, tucking herself beneath his chin and letting her rough scales meet his smooth skin. Real enough, she supposes. Just solid enough to savor his warmth for a while.
“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t. Sometimes, I just wish I would disappear,” he confesses against his chest. How lovely it might be to exist only as a fleeting memory on the tongues of her family before the wind snatches the last threads of her away. Her rich green eyes close and she sighs softly. If only she were an illusion invented to entertain a gorgeous thing like him.
Her sage eyes watch the dream world shudder and ripple at his words before he steadies it once again. It isn’t real, he assures her, but her muscles continue to tremble as she waits for the forest to come rushing back to her. The cove and the sea are foreign whereas the shade of the trees is a second home, a shelter in even the greatest storm. Meeting a beautiful ghost and being thrust into his dreams of seaside caves is too much for a fearful thing like her.
But she doesn’t confess such weakness. Sabbath forces herself to focus on his amethyst eyes when he addresses her, keeps her chin tilted down just an inch so that her spiral horn remains poised and ready. Life has taught her that the most wonderful things are often facades, gilded monsters all waiting to snap their teeth. After all, her mother had trusted her father’s handsome face and what good had it done her?
His smile draws her in though and she wants to press her lips to his, to nurture that tender-soft center of her heart despite the way it quivers. Is she real? She laughs softly at the question and moves closer to him, tucking herself beneath his chin and letting her rough scales meet his smooth skin. Real enough, she supposes. Just solid enough to savor his warmth for a while.
“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t. Sometimes, I just wish I would disappear,” he confesses against his chest. How lovely it might be to exist only as a fleeting memory on the tongues of her family before the wind snatches the last threads of her away. Her rich green eyes close and she sighs softly. If only she were an illusion invented to entertain a gorgeous thing like him.