I come unraveled in the silence; savage pony

[gospel]

It is always the boredom – the thick, indelible boredom – that leads her here.
Because there are so precious few of them left in Pangea. Ghaul gone to the Cove (and perhaps she could have followed but she was not built for kingdoms, let alone territories), Draco busy with whatever plaything he could sink his teeth into, and Stave? She ought not dwell on it.

It is the boredom that leads her here but she does not scowl or pout or allow herself even an ounce of petulance. Because the last time she was here, she sunk those viper’s teeth into her sister’s throat and watched death come for her. Oh, precious girl, how sweet the suffering.

She sees him, even in the darkness, because the vision shifts without her having to tell it to. She likes the way he slinks, a creature built for shadow, and she bites her tongue – an age-old habit – just enough to excite the heartbeat as she moves toward him. Emits a low, sultry hiss when she reaches him.

And isn’t there just something about him? Something that stokes a low flame in the cavern of her chest, something that licks sweetly at the strong-beating heart as she studies him. “Hello,” she murmurs, a grossly conventional greeting as she tilts her fine head and fixes that reptilian stare to his face.

these violent delights have violent ends

g o s p e l,

@[cringe]