COBAIN
i said i'd not come back. well, i'm coming back - and you'd better be alone.
She neither startles nor bristles at his sudden touch and it’s enough to keep him here for a little longer – two animals caught in each other’s trap. He offers a shrug of broad gray shoulders and a light-hearted laugh. No words, only gestures. He presses his side to hers and studies the way her warmth feels across his skin for a while. Any sort of heat feels so foreign and yet so welcomed after centuries of being dead and nothing. But then she speaks her name and his gaze drifts up to her eyes.
“I don’t recall asking,” he says as though pondering if he had after all. But his brows unfurrow quickly and he touches his lips to her neck like he’s been starving to be close to someone like this. And maybe he has, this ravenous hunger brewing within him all this time. Aurorae isn’t special but the way his eyes devour her must make it seem like she is. Cobain becomes temporarily infatuated with every figure he meets.
“Where are you from, Aurorae? You smell like grave roses,” he notes as he carefully grooms her mane like some doting lover. “I rather like grave roses.”
And then, just to keep her on her toes, he bites at her neck. Cobain examines her every micro expression like dissecting a wasp – delicate so as not to break her but careful not to get stung at the same time. Still, even if she did lash out, he supposes the veil would permit him another grand entrance just as before.
“I don’t recall asking,” he says as though pondering if he had after all. But his brows unfurrow quickly and he touches his lips to her neck like he’s been starving to be close to someone like this. And maybe he has, this ravenous hunger brewing within him all this time. Aurorae isn’t special but the way his eyes devour her must make it seem like she is. Cobain becomes temporarily infatuated with every figure he meets.
“Where are you from, Aurorae? You smell like grave roses,” he notes as he carefully grooms her mane like some doting lover. “I rather like grave roses.”
And then, just to keep her on her toes, he bites at her neck. Cobain examines her every micro expression like dissecting a wasp – delicate so as not to break her but careful not to get stung at the same time. Still, even if she did lash out, he supposes the veil would permit him another grand entrance just as before.