10-24-2021, 03:24 AM
YOU'RE WALKING IN THE SHADOWS OF YOUR FEAR AND YOU'RE HEADED
FOR THE GALLOWS, SIN AROUND YOUR THROAT AND NO ONE'S NEAR
FOR THE GALLOWS, SIN AROUND YOUR THROAT AND NO ONE'S NEAR
In the wake of his satisfaction he feels nothing but shame.
Once the pangs of hunger have subsided and he is able to see her clearly through the fog, is able to feel the way she weakly rests against him and how her skin is damp with sweat, the guilt is brought into sharp relief. He reaches for her, twisting until his shadowed neck is draped over hers and he can pull her closer to him, as if having her closer will somehow lessen the pain that has driven like a blade into his chest. He wants to correct her and tell her that there will not be a second time; he wants to argue until she relents and accepts that she will not be his sacrifice, because he will not allow it.
If anything, this had cemented it, but he did not want her to try and fight with him now.
Instead all he does is press his mouth to the top of her neck, gently dragging his lips down her damp skin and along the curve of her cheek. “Maybe,” he manages a noncommittal answer for her, hoping the uncertainty he feels does not leak into his voice. For a moment his red eyes close, focusing only on the steadfast rhythm of her heartbeat, before finally murmuring gently into her dark mane, “You should rest. I promise I’ll be right here.” A promise that he intends to keep, for as long as she will let him.
Once the pangs of hunger have subsided and he is able to see her clearly through the fog, is able to feel the way she weakly rests against him and how her skin is damp with sweat, the guilt is brought into sharp relief. He reaches for her, twisting until his shadowed neck is draped over hers and he can pull her closer to him, as if having her closer will somehow lessen the pain that has driven like a blade into his chest. He wants to correct her and tell her that there will not be a second time; he wants to argue until she relents and accepts that she will not be his sacrifice, because he will not allow it.
If anything, this had cemented it, but he did not want her to try and fight with him now.
Instead all he does is press his mouth to the top of her neck, gently dragging his lips down her damp skin and along the curve of her cheek. “Maybe,” he manages a noncommittal answer for her, hoping the uncertainty he feels does not leak into his voice. For a moment his red eyes close, focusing only on the steadfast rhythm of her heartbeat, before finally murmuring gently into her dark mane, “You should rest. I promise I’ll be right here.” A promise that he intends to keep, for as long as she will let him.
T O R R Y N
an extremely late closer lmao