I can see through you, see your true colors
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
She had been gone all night.
It isn’t in him to worry, least of all for her. Still, when he wakes and she is not there, he worries. It is hidden beneath that cunning demeanor he puts on for the court as he ambles nonchalantly through the canyons, his smug smirk firmly in place and the dark ruby of his eyes hard and unreadable. Once he had felt her blood on him as he had pressed his healing touch into the parts of her that struggled to fix themselves. The fury that he had felt then, the pain of possibly losing her. It still coils deep within him (around the snake that hisses and waits) and it’s not a feeling he ever wants to have again.
His hooves ring off the clay and rocky walls, making his way to the heart of Loess and avoiding whatever pesky ruling business he can. The sun had barely risen in the sky and he had already had several sips of nectar, finding it in curved rock formations and rocky bowls with that uncanny Fae knowledge that stems deep in his subconscious. To anyone else it’s just a normal day, just normal behavior for their monarch who tends to be inebriated at any time of day while ruling with a firm but gentle grip. Only one could see behind the mask now, one who knew that he drank to calm his nerves, to calm the raging sea of emotions he got when he was uncomfortable or nervous. But she wasn’t here.
It had been a hard thing, taking off the pieces of his armor let alone pushing down the visor from his helmet to begin with. To let her look inside to what made him what he was. Yet slowly and painfully, they were working on it. Working on taking down that wall, brick by brick. It was a slow process but it was worth it. She was worth it. His smug smirk softens into a crooked smile, one he gives only to her when they are alone like this, and there’s a flicker of warmth from the hard ruby depths of his scarlet eyes. She can be as wild as the storms she had once cast about her (that dark night when they had first met had never been forgotten), as vicious as the viper within him, and as obstinate and cunning as the Fae themselves. Her jaded eyes could also open wide with vulnerability when he touched her just so, a softness in the heated passion of her kiss, and he never tires of the way she trembles beneath him when he takes her. His unkindness is left piled at the door in those moments when he shows her what exactly a prayer from the Fae sounds like, the reverence that it should properly hold.
There are times they step before the people purposely not touching, to radiate in their individual power and remind the world of who exactly they are dealing with. It is only the whisper of a touch in those moments, a steady muzzle to a neck and a knowing gleam in their gaze to also remind those watching that they were a unit. A powerful one at that. No eyes are on them now though, as she rounds the corner of a chasm, as she comes back home. He steps to her without hesitation, breathing her in deeply as he plants a possessive kiss to her jaw. A suggestion forming in the glittering ruby eyes. “Have I told you lately how abhorrent you look?” He asks, an old joke that he never gets tired of telling. It always stirs the memory of when he had first said it, how long it had taken her to figure out that he could never actually insult her. His possession mellows into something softer as he moves his mouth to linger closer to hers, a wickedness in that crooked grin and a brow raised.
And then he kisses her like he means it.
As if he had done so a thousand times before.
As if he would die if he could not have her, abhorrent thing that she is.
It isn’t in him to worry, least of all for her. Still, when he wakes and she is not there, he worries. It is hidden beneath that cunning demeanor he puts on for the court as he ambles nonchalantly through the canyons, his smug smirk firmly in place and the dark ruby of his eyes hard and unreadable. Once he had felt her blood on him as he had pressed his healing touch into the parts of her that struggled to fix themselves. The fury that he had felt then, the pain of possibly losing her. It still coils deep within him (around the snake that hisses and waits) and it’s not a feeling he ever wants to have again.
His hooves ring off the clay and rocky walls, making his way to the heart of Loess and avoiding whatever pesky ruling business he can. The sun had barely risen in the sky and he had already had several sips of nectar, finding it in curved rock formations and rocky bowls with that uncanny Fae knowledge that stems deep in his subconscious. To anyone else it’s just a normal day, just normal behavior for their monarch who tends to be inebriated at any time of day while ruling with a firm but gentle grip. Only one could see behind the mask now, one who knew that he drank to calm his nerves, to calm the raging sea of emotions he got when he was uncomfortable or nervous. But she wasn’t here.
It had been a hard thing, taking off the pieces of his armor let alone pushing down the visor from his helmet to begin with. To let her look inside to what made him what he was. Yet slowly and painfully, they were working on it. Working on taking down that wall, brick by brick. It was a slow process but it was worth it. She was worth it. His smug smirk softens into a crooked smile, one he gives only to her when they are alone like this, and there’s a flicker of warmth from the hard ruby depths of his scarlet eyes. She can be as wild as the storms she had once cast about her (that dark night when they had first met had never been forgotten), as vicious as the viper within him, and as obstinate and cunning as the Fae themselves. Her jaded eyes could also open wide with vulnerability when he touched her just so, a softness in the heated passion of her kiss, and he never tires of the way she trembles beneath him when he takes her. His unkindness is left piled at the door in those moments when he shows her what exactly a prayer from the Fae sounds like, the reverence that it should properly hold.
There are times they step before the people purposely not touching, to radiate in their individual power and remind the world of who exactly they are dealing with. It is only the whisper of a touch in those moments, a steady muzzle to a neck and a knowing gleam in their gaze to also remind those watching that they were a unit. A powerful one at that. No eyes are on them now though, as she rounds the corner of a chasm, as she comes back home. He steps to her without hesitation, breathing her in deeply as he plants a possessive kiss to her jaw. A suggestion forming in the glittering ruby eyes. “Have I told you lately how abhorrent you look?” He asks, an old joke that he never gets tired of telling. It always stirs the memory of when he had first said it, how long it had taken her to figure out that he could never actually insult her. His possession mellows into something softer as he moves his mouth to linger closer to hers, a wickedness in that crooked grin and a brow raised.
And then he kisses her like he means it.
As if he had done so a thousand times before.
As if he would die if he could not have her, abhorrent thing that she is.
obscene
@[Cheri]
![[Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/fTkjKh9Q/Obscene-Pixel.png){kind=tracking}