that day even the sun was afraid of you and the weight you carried
There is a part of him—some piece of his rational brain—that wishes he had the common sense to be afraid of her. That had the common sense to know that when she peels her lips back from her teeth that it is a warning she should listen to. But all he feels is a heady sense of control, knowing that he was able to illicit such a reaction from her, that he had successfully turned the conversation on its head.
And if the tension feels like it might tear him apart, then it’s better than what he had felt before.
“Of course I’m a challenge,” he says, his golden eyes nearly molten as they hold onto her. As he fixes her with that piercing gaze, his quicksilver smile still tugging at the edges of his handsome mouth. If only he could only feel like this, he thinks. If only he could live his life in control. If only he could pretend that this was no different than all the other times that he has crooked a finger at a strange woman.
Of course, the latter would imply that all the other times they didn’t threaten to rip his head off.
Or burst into flames when he got too close.
This time, he doesn’t let his eyes widen in surprise when some piece of her power erupts. He feels the warmth flicker and then bathe him—the promise of how it might scald just seconds behind. It is not enough to push him back though. Merely adds kindling to the fire he has already started.
“Does it feel good to lie to yourself?” he asks, still predatory as he takes another step, wondering if this will be when she lashes out for good. If this will be when sinks teeth into his flesh. He counts his blessings that he has some gift to heal himself. He’s close enough now that she might feel the warmth of his breath, sweet with life now that the ash of night has been swept from his tongue.
so you saluted every ghost you've ever prayed to and then buried it where bones are buried
