god make me pay
like the devil i am
like the devil i am
She is drawn to him - a ghost within the shallows, a beast of water and rip currents and a trick of light - and the smile that finds his face (however unsettling) is a genuine one. She is young, fragile…impressionable. She is a creature of his home, a water nymph lovely and sweet, drawn towards the open jaws of a predator. They are silly - they all are. They crave the danger that he brings, silently wishing for their own deaths but pretending it isn’t their fault - as if they didn’t have a choice in coming to him. She is lucky that the wings at her sides are of grandeur to him - she is not safe just because she too can breathe beneath the surface; he can satisfy the hunger in his stomach without the use of drowning.
“She claims me piece by piece.”
I claim you piece by piece.
She claims she has ties to the land and the displeasure on his face is evident, and she quickly reassures him that she does not wish to go to them now, as if displeasing him would make him disappear into the depths. The young woman is curious, ever flitting closer with the transparency of her wings - he wonders if he can control them, since they are made from water? He decides now is not a good time to test this theory - there will be a better time, when the deep no longer calls to her in adventure but in captivity.
The sand-colored mare rambles on, and perhaps he found her daydreams endearing, but the moment she begs him to take her there, he does not linger on what she hopes to find - only that he is happy to oblige to her wishes, a wicked grin spreading onto the pale pearl of his lips.
Using the water to his will, he brings himself towards her - not floating, but walking as if he was on land, at the river’s murky bottom, his movement churning up algae and mud. He forces the water forward and to spiral, wrapping around her barrel and legs in the most subtle of ways, tasting her fragile frame in ways his mouth couldn’t.
“Can you keep up?” He asks, though the answer doesn’t matter - she didn’t have a choice, now; not as his grip slowly begins to fasten onto her.
“She claims me piece by piece.”
I claim you piece by piece.
She claims she has ties to the land and the displeasure on his face is evident, and she quickly reassures him that she does not wish to go to them now, as if displeasing him would make him disappear into the depths. The young woman is curious, ever flitting closer with the transparency of her wings - he wonders if he can control them, since they are made from water? He decides now is not a good time to test this theory - there will be a better time, when the deep no longer calls to her in adventure but in captivity.
The sand-colored mare rambles on, and perhaps he found her daydreams endearing, but the moment she begs him to take her there, he does not linger on what she hopes to find - only that he is happy to oblige to her wishes, a wicked grin spreading onto the pale pearl of his lips.
Using the water to his will, he brings himself towards her - not floating, but walking as if he was on land, at the river’s murky bottom, his movement churning up algae and mud. He forces the water forward and to spiral, wrapping around her barrel and legs in the most subtle of ways, tasting her fragile frame in ways his mouth couldn’t.
“Can you keep up?” He asks, though the answer doesn’t matter - she didn’t have a choice, now; not as his grip slowly begins to fasten onto her.
m a u g r i m.
@[Nyxa]