[open] ain't no grave can hold my body down

[aurorae]

aurorae

She is drawn to the dark things.

The dead things.

The things that should be the death of her.

It is her birth right. The gift of her parents. This precious gift from the bloodlines of old to be drawn to the same things of their era, as though no time has passed at all. Such is the way with him. There is something of Dacian in the sharp angles of his face. Something from another time, something cruel. It intrigues her, drawing her forth like moth to flame, and when he bites into her flesh, she merely angles her head back.

She looks up through her lashes, the night sky playing across the curves of her.

“What an odd way to say hello,” she purrs, voice like velvet, something different about the way that her lips tilt upward in the corners. The sun hangs at its pinnacle so she has no gift to call down upon her now, nothing to protect herself with, but she doesn’t feel fear—or even the shades of it.

He can do no harm to her. Not when she would gladly press her throat to the knife’s edge.

She doesn’t shift away from his biting lips, doesn’t distance herself from the danger. She just sits in the glow of it, letting the darkness shift across her like the rolling of the tide.

“My name is Aurorae,” a hum more than actual words, oddly husky for such a delicate thing. She considers asking him for his name, but instead decides that he would give it to her if he truly wanted to.

He struck her as someone who did exactly what he wanted and nothing else.

I said I never knew the moral but I guess that's how the story goes
my lovers never been a mirror in the hour that I needed it most

@[cobain]