12-21-2020, 10:37 PM
CrownS
She is forged from stars and she glitters beautifully no matter what shape her heart takes. Altar will be beautiful for every second of every day, and he knows this very well. But he is born from infinite night: the black hole that tears galaxies and their stars down to their parts and licks its fingers clean when it has swallowed them all. He wants to break her down slowly, with surgical precision, to see what piece of her keeps drawing him in.
But she plunges her face in the water and defies him once more.
He watches, the subtle glow of his eyes studying her. Her question is entirely sidestepped when he leans his face close to hers with a wild grin on his lips. “You don’t like my blood? You don’t wonder how my throat might taste?” he asks with a gentle laugh. Crowns quiets the fire burning between his ribs to leave his body vulnerable for her. The quiet pulse is there, flexing so delicately along his neck as he leans close to her.
“I like you, Altar. I’m offended that you haven’t tried to hurt me once,” he confesses at last. “I won’t stop you. I won’t even bite back, if you like.”
He tips his head back to expose the thin flesh of his neck then. Altar is difficult to read and he doesn’t intend to spoil any surprises by scraping through her mind. Instead, he waits, holding his breath.
But she plunges her face in the water and defies him once more.
He watches, the subtle glow of his eyes studying her. Her question is entirely sidestepped when he leans his face close to hers with a wild grin on his lips. “You don’t like my blood? You don’t wonder how my throat might taste?” he asks with a gentle laugh. Crowns quiets the fire burning between his ribs to leave his body vulnerable for her. The quiet pulse is there, flexing so delicately along his neck as he leans close to her.
“I like you, Altar. I’m offended that you haven’t tried to hurt me once,” he confesses at last. “I won’t stop you. I won’t even bite back, if you like.”
He tips his head back to expose the thin flesh of his neck then. Altar is difficult to read and he doesn’t intend to spoil any surprises by scraping through her mind. Instead, he waits, holding his breath.
you got me on my knees; i'm your one-man cult.