05-19-2020, 12:05 AM
all i want is to flip a switch
before something breaks that cannot be fixed
before something breaks that cannot be fixed
“I don’t know angel, looks like a pretty good fit from here.” It is so incredibly disarming the way she watches him with those dark, beautiful eyes, and the way she keeps them half-hidden behind her forelock when she peers up at him. It makes her seem shy in a way he thinks she is not, or bashful maybe. But generally speaking, if you’re shy you don’t go around confessing to strangers that you’ve been looking for them.
Or that you can’t stop thinking about them.
Her words unsettle him at his core, because they reach a dark place inside him long ago abandoned, a room closed and locked, all filled with dust. It is a piece of himself he had thought he would possess when he was a child, when he still believed he would be a protector like his father, or compassionate like his mother. That he would grow up to be the kind of man his children could be proud of. Someone worth the time the woman has wasted thinking about him.
“Not the most hostile?” His voice feigns offense, as though he cannot believe she would insult him like that. “I’ll have you know I can be very hostile.” He is almost teasing though his voice is still gravel, like he’s slipping in and out of versions of himself he thought long dead and the version he is now who slavers at the back of his thoughts at this pointless banter. There is no purpose to this conversation, it simpers, she is already his if he wants her.
And he does want her.
It is part of the dichotomy that now consumes him.
The beast inside him paces, so frustrated with the way he fights himself. With the way he pretends he is not all carved out inside and filled with the dark he let devour him years ago when he learned how easy it was to take what others would not willingly give. But it is as though some of this dark recedes in the light of her, of this angel who watches him like she wants to know more of him - and the longer she waits, the more willing he is to let her have glimpses. No one ever stays this long. How much can he show her before she regrets this?
His face is a frown again because he knows he’s being foolish, just as he understands her curiosity in him is a waning thing. She is a lure to him, like his dark cannot be without her, and even though he gives his feet a million reasons to stay, they carry him close enough to reach out and press his lips to the curve of that beautiful throat. He doesn’t though, because he is not sure he will be able to stop himself if he touches the warmth of her. “Is that what you plan to do next?” He wonders, marvelling at the impossible dark of these angel eyes this close up. “Here out of nowhere and disappear right back into it?”
He’s too close and speaking too quiet, and he shouldn’t because there is absolutely no reason for it, but his lips find the curve of her neck with such tamed curiosity that even his feet carry him another stride closer. He could reach her wings now too, but he’s still busy discovering the curve of her slender shoulder and the way her mane settles against it. She can almost certainly feel the frost on his skin at this distance, maybe even where his lips touch her shoulder. “Is now the part where you tell me your name, or should we do that later.” And though she likely cannot see it at this angle, there is once more an amused smile on his lips as she holds his dark at bay.
Or that you can’t stop thinking about them.
Her words unsettle him at his core, because they reach a dark place inside him long ago abandoned, a room closed and locked, all filled with dust. It is a piece of himself he had thought he would possess when he was a child, when he still believed he would be a protector like his father, or compassionate like his mother. That he would grow up to be the kind of man his children could be proud of. Someone worth the time the woman has wasted thinking about him.
“Not the most hostile?” His voice feigns offense, as though he cannot believe she would insult him like that. “I’ll have you know I can be very hostile.” He is almost teasing though his voice is still gravel, like he’s slipping in and out of versions of himself he thought long dead and the version he is now who slavers at the back of his thoughts at this pointless banter. There is no purpose to this conversation, it simpers, she is already his if he wants her.
And he does want her.
It is part of the dichotomy that now consumes him.
The beast inside him paces, so frustrated with the way he fights himself. With the way he pretends he is not all carved out inside and filled with the dark he let devour him years ago when he learned how easy it was to take what others would not willingly give. But it is as though some of this dark recedes in the light of her, of this angel who watches him like she wants to know more of him - and the longer she waits, the more willing he is to let her have glimpses. No one ever stays this long. How much can he show her before she regrets this?
His face is a frown again because he knows he’s being foolish, just as he understands her curiosity in him is a waning thing. She is a lure to him, like his dark cannot be without her, and even though he gives his feet a million reasons to stay, they carry him close enough to reach out and press his lips to the curve of that beautiful throat. He doesn’t though, because he is not sure he will be able to stop himself if he touches the warmth of her. “Is that what you plan to do next?” He wonders, marvelling at the impossible dark of these angel eyes this close up. “Here out of nowhere and disappear right back into it?”
He’s too close and speaking too quiet, and he shouldn’t because there is absolutely no reason for it, but his lips find the curve of her neck with such tamed curiosity that even his feet carry him another stride closer. He could reach her wings now too, but he’s still busy discovering the curve of her slender shoulder and the way her mane settles against it. She can almost certainly feel the frost on his skin at this distance, maybe even where his lips touch her shoulder. “Is now the part where you tell me your name, or should we do that later.” And though she likely cannot see it at this angle, there is once more an amused smile on his lips as she holds his dark at bay.
Illum