12-29-2018, 12:44 AM
He's given up on me. That's what I hear when he tells me he can't give me home, can't give me what I need to survive. But isn't he why I survive at all? Isn't he why the air still passes through my lungs, and pain still dogs my days, and why I bear it? He was my hope and my salvation, and now I can see he didn't believe any of it. I watch in mute fascination as his skin writhes over twisting bones, snapping back into a shape I remember but have not seen in so long. He doesn't understand. Why doesn't he understand?
When he cannot meet my gaze I feel another chip of my heart break away, forsaken. The anger that had settled in my belly flared once more. Was he so much a coward that he could not face what stood before him? I know what self pity is, and he is drowning himself in it, and for a moment I want to let him.
Words that I would regret later simmer on my tongue,
burning to escape and scald him like he's done me. Fine. Suit yourself. Have it your way. Be alone and miserable for the rest of your days, if that's all you think you're good for.
Instead, I breath, inhaling smoke and exhaling simple honesty.
"If I could hate you, I would."
I can't. I've tried, and I've tried and it all comes back to one truth. "Outside of battle, you've never marked me, and still I call myself yours. You idiot of a stallion, I have wanted you since we first met, and time has done nothing but reassure me of my choice! You want power, and land, and family? Very well. I will fight by your side to gain these. There is none other I would trust."
Self loathing and apathy are stark on his features, but at least he's looking at me again. Emboldened by this, I bring myself within his reach. He's a fool and a coward at times, but he is mine. Mine. The thick cords of his bronzed mane twist before me in unknowable patterns, a haven where I had found myself so long ago.
"Fine, you're a fuckup." I agree dispassionately, matching his growling tone. In the same detached manner I press my maw toward him, placing an icy kiss on his shoulder before my lips part against his fever-warm skin. Blunt teeth scrape there a moment before they catch on muscle, applying inexorable pressure as I feel violence and anger and stubborn love reach a climax within me. They need release and I find it in the closing of my jaw on him. Bruising, breaking skin. Iron liquid rimming my petal pink lips crimson. Burning with dragons blood, almost as satisfying as sex.
Pain and passion had long been hallmarks of our intertwined lives, and I didn't see why this should be any different. "Now you're my fuckup. You should have known I wouldn't be so easy to get rid of." I murmur against the wound I've left. I recognize it for the act of vengeance it is, marking him for the world to see. I wanted him to hurt, because he had hurt me.
I'd always known he would one day.
@[Castile]
When he cannot meet my gaze I feel another chip of my heart break away, forsaken. The anger that had settled in my belly flared once more. Was he so much a coward that he could not face what stood before him? I know what self pity is, and he is drowning himself in it, and for a moment I want to let him.
Words that I would regret later simmer on my tongue,
burning to escape and scald him like he's done me. Fine. Suit yourself. Have it your way. Be alone and miserable for the rest of your days, if that's all you think you're good for.
Instead, I breath, inhaling smoke and exhaling simple honesty.
"If I could hate you, I would."
I can't. I've tried, and I've tried and it all comes back to one truth. "Outside of battle, you've never marked me, and still I call myself yours. You idiot of a stallion, I have wanted you since we first met, and time has done nothing but reassure me of my choice! You want power, and land, and family? Very well. I will fight by your side to gain these. There is none other I would trust."
Self loathing and apathy are stark on his features, but at least he's looking at me again. Emboldened by this, I bring myself within his reach. He's a fool and a coward at times, but he is mine. Mine. The thick cords of his bronzed mane twist before me in unknowable patterns, a haven where I had found myself so long ago.
"Fine, you're a fuckup." I agree dispassionately, matching his growling tone. In the same detached manner I press my maw toward him, placing an icy kiss on his shoulder before my lips part against his fever-warm skin. Blunt teeth scrape there a moment before they catch on muscle, applying inexorable pressure as I feel violence and anger and stubborn love reach a climax within me. They need release and I find it in the closing of my jaw on him. Bruising, breaking skin. Iron liquid rimming my petal pink lips crimson. Burning with dragons blood, almost as satisfying as sex.
Pain and passion had long been hallmarks of our intertwined lives, and I didn't see why this should be any different. "Now you're my fuckup. You should have known I wouldn't be so easy to get rid of." I murmur against the wound I've left. I recognize it for the act of vengeance it is, marking him for the world to see. I wanted him to hurt, because he had hurt me.
I'd always known he would one day.
@[Castile]