07-04-2020, 02:57 AM
“I know when you go
down all your darkest roads
I would have followed all the way
to the graveyard.”
down all your darkest roads
I would have followed all the way
to the graveyard.”
She is afraid of how easy it is to give in to him. She is afraid of how the faster her heart beats the less her mind seems to work, how his lips are tracing paths across her body and she is almost able to forget the ones that had originally carved them. Because this was, and always would be, one of her greatest weaknesses. The way she nearly crumbles at a touch, the way her heart quivers if someone says the right thing.
She is afraid that he will weave himself into a place he shouldn’t, a place where she won’t be able to love him the way he deserves to be loved – just like Skellig.
She had been told, once, that she chooses those that are easy to walk away from. And of course it had stung, because the truth always does. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t already known; it had just carried a different weight, to be heard it spoken aloud. It wasn’t that any of them were easy for her to leave behind; it was the fact that she chose the kind of men where erecting a wall was how she stayed alive, how she kept herself from growing too complacent with the darkness.
But she knows, can feel it with every touch he leaves against her skin, every breath against her curves, that Illum will be someone that was difficult to walk away from.
Her eyes are closed when he kisses her jaw, but she feels the faint coolness of the shadows when they settle across her face. She opens her eyes to darkness, and to his lips on her throat, and at first her heart jumps in anticipation, and then it jumps again in want. He had no way of knowing she was used to the dark, that for a hundred years it was all she had known. She is not afraid of it, and instead she relishes how all she can do is focus on the way he touches her, explores her, searches for a piece of her that doesn’t already belong to someone else.
She would unearth that for him, she thinks, as his shadows tighten across her wings, and suddenly she is holding the weight of him.
He pulls her easily back into him, and she is compliant, as she always is. Her delicate nose tucks near her chest at the feel of him, adjusting to his rhythm. She cannot control the way her body trembles and shudders beneath him, or the sounds that he coaxes from her lips. She cannot stop herself from wanting to press back into him, to wanting to hear the way he breathes angel against her skin one more time. No one has ever been particularly kind or gentle with her, and she no longer expects that, which is why it is a surprise to her that he does not purposely break her skin until she bleeds, why he does not try to blossom bruises across the porcelain of her.
When he is through she is left gasping and shaking, her ethereal glow causing the sheen of sweat across her skin to almost appear pearlescent. The shadows are lifted from her eyes, and her wings released, and she turns to find him, to hold him with her gaze. She can feel shame burning at the back of her throat and inside of her chest, because she is so sure that he will regret this – regret her. She had been too easy – she always is. He might come back, but it will be for the same reason many of them do.
She turns to him anyway, steps forward until she can trail her lips up his jaw. “Can I stay?” She asks him, her voice still quiet and nearly raspy, with uncertainty riding on every syllable. “I can’t promise you forever, Illum, but I can stay, for a little while.”
She is afraid that he will weave himself into a place he shouldn’t, a place where she won’t be able to love him the way he deserves to be loved – just like Skellig.
She had been told, once, that she chooses those that are easy to walk away from. And of course it had stung, because the truth always does. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t already known; it had just carried a different weight, to be heard it spoken aloud. It wasn’t that any of them were easy for her to leave behind; it was the fact that she chose the kind of men where erecting a wall was how she stayed alive, how she kept herself from growing too complacent with the darkness.
But she knows, can feel it with every touch he leaves against her skin, every breath against her curves, that Illum will be someone that was difficult to walk away from.
Her eyes are closed when he kisses her jaw, but she feels the faint coolness of the shadows when they settle across her face. She opens her eyes to darkness, and to his lips on her throat, and at first her heart jumps in anticipation, and then it jumps again in want. He had no way of knowing she was used to the dark, that for a hundred years it was all she had known. She is not afraid of it, and instead she relishes how all she can do is focus on the way he touches her, explores her, searches for a piece of her that doesn’t already belong to someone else.
She would unearth that for him, she thinks, as his shadows tighten across her wings, and suddenly she is holding the weight of him.
He pulls her easily back into him, and she is compliant, as she always is. Her delicate nose tucks near her chest at the feel of him, adjusting to his rhythm. She cannot control the way her body trembles and shudders beneath him, or the sounds that he coaxes from her lips. She cannot stop herself from wanting to press back into him, to wanting to hear the way he breathes angel against her skin one more time. No one has ever been particularly kind or gentle with her, and she no longer expects that, which is why it is a surprise to her that he does not purposely break her skin until she bleeds, why he does not try to blossom bruises across the porcelain of her.
When he is through she is left gasping and shaking, her ethereal glow causing the sheen of sweat across her skin to almost appear pearlescent. The shadows are lifted from her eyes, and her wings released, and she turns to find him, to hold him with her gaze. She can feel shame burning at the back of her throat and inside of her chest, because she is so sure that he will regret this – regret her. She had been too easy – she always is. He might come back, but it will be for the same reason many of them do.
She turns to him anyway, steps forward until she can trail her lips up his jaw. “Can I stay?” She asks him, her voice still quiet and nearly raspy, with uncertainty riding on every syllable. “I can’t promise you forever, Illum, but I can stay, for a little while.”
ryatah