[mature] Je n'ai jamais eu besoin de toi

[Bardot]

Bardot

I know what sin is

There had been a moment in the afterglow when they had looked at each other, when he had taken his teeth to her throat and stoked the white hot flames of need within her again with his dark praise. As she saw something in those stormy eyes that broke through the clouds like lightning and momentarily reflect in her own. A flash and then it is gone and he is pulling away from her, disgust written on his face. His promise of taking her again seems to be forgotten when he flatly tells her to leave and then disappears himself into the cold darkness. She had said nothing when she had seen the change in his expression, had felt the absence of his body next to hers. She should have expected this cruelty, he was a dark stranger and neither of them owed the other anything. Still, she can’t help the sharp knife of rejection when he spurns her as if she was nothing. The look she gives him as he goes is one of pride, defiance, and disappointment, not allowing her hurt to get the best of her. She would not beg him to stay. She did not know the forest the way he did and it took her awhile to find her way out of the darkness, the memories of him etched into the recesses of her mind, burned into her brain and refusing to dissipate. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - She spent a few days bathing in the River, her body bruised and aching from the way he had handled her. She had found the demon in these waters and it had been enough of a distraction to chase away any bitterness left in Tunnel’s cruel exit. The changes in the redwoods, finding her mother, and the hunt for her brother soon took up most space in her head and soon Tunnel was no more than a memory she recalled from time to time. Mostly he came to her in dreams that left her panting and aching when she awoke but were soon forgotten by the distractions of the day. The heat of summer drives her back towards the riverbank on a particularly hot day, her flowered tail snapping at gnats and another annoying creatures that threaten to eat her alive. The marks he had left on her were stubborn, refusing to fade at first, but now only a small few remained, close to fading. As if he had never touched her at all. She slips into the waters seeking relief from the oppressive heat and sweat that clings to her buckskin figure. What might she encounter near the rapids today? Small rivulets stream across her back as she dips herself lower, only momentarily reflecting on both the demon she had encountered here as well as the dark stallion that she had once given her body to. The memories of them fade as she washes herself clean, closing her golden eyes from the intrusive beaming of the sun and focusing on the tasks left ahead of her.

They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;

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@Tunnel