09-26-2020, 06:54 PM
so make your siren's call and sing all you want, I will not hear what you have to say --
He presses a final touch to Crowns’ temple when his mother calls him away, watching with a faint smile as the boy reluctantly settles down to sleep. He can hardly remember being that small, but he does remember how desperately he had wanted to see the world, and how Chryseis had been reluctant to let him leave. His mother had been protective, though not quite in the same ferocious way as Sabbath. Varick’s mother had soft, sweet brown eyes that swam with ghosts of worry that she thought he could not see, and more than once he had caught her staring at him like he might hold with him the answers to a secret she didn’t know she was looking for.
Varick’s blue eyes look again to Sabbath when she addresses him, tracing the lines of her face and mouth as she speaks. He wonders if she has any idea how lovely he finds her; wonders if she would even care if he told her. He suspects she would spit venom in his eye if he said it out loud, and decides he will try telling her later.
She is close enough now that he can feel her breath when she speaks, so warm against the perpetual frost of his scales. “I know I have not given you a reason to trust me,” he tells her, his voice low, ignoring the fire that floods his veins when she touches him. Resisting the urge, at first, to touch her back. “But you have my word that I would never do anything to hurt Crowns,” and then he tilts his head just enough to run his mouth against her neck, aware of the way she might lash out but murmuring anyway, “I wouldn’t hurt you either, Sabbath.” He withdraws from her slightly, for once that crooked, boyish smile completely absent from his face when he tells her, “You’ll see that, eventually.”
Varick’s blue eyes look again to Sabbath when she addresses him, tracing the lines of her face and mouth as she speaks. He wonders if she has any idea how lovely he finds her; wonders if she would even care if he told her. He suspects she would spit venom in his eye if he said it out loud, and decides he will try telling her later.
She is close enough now that he can feel her breath when she speaks, so warm against the perpetual frost of his scales. “I know I have not given you a reason to trust me,” he tells her, his voice low, ignoring the fire that floods his veins when she touches him. Resisting the urge, at first, to touch her back. “But you have my word that I would never do anything to hurt Crowns,” and then he tilts his head just enough to run his mouth against her neck, aware of the way she might lash out but murmuring anyway, “I wouldn’t hurt you either, Sabbath.” He withdraws from her slightly, for once that crooked, boyish smile completely absent from his face when he tells her, “You’ll see that, eventually.”
VARICK
@[Sabbath]