It does not occur to her that he might want to keep her. That she might be something to be kept. She feels free, feels endless, feels eternal. Feels herself stretch across the night sky and consume all of the shadows that she finds. That he is the most fascinating, that she sinks into him like a black hole does not escape her notice, but it is not enough to make her think she might stay here forever. Visit often, yes. Visit more frequently than the other constellations that she might explore—but be fastened in one spot?
It’s an impossible thought.
It does not cross her mind.
So she relinquishes herself in the moment and does not feel the irons clasp around her wrists. Does not feel the weight settle across her shoulders. Instead she indulges her curiosities and wants and desires in the roll of his hot breath across her skin, in the feel of the way he takes so readily. Her breath shudders in her throat as he explores her neck. Her skin shivers beneath him. She gasps lightly at his touch.
She is a willing participant, not bothering to hide her pleasure at him—her delight in him.
“Tell me of the terrible things you have done,” she whispers, wanting to hear it all. Wanting to know of the blood on his hands—the sins that stain him. There is something deeply wrong with her, but she doesn’t know. Something terrible in her that craves that—that points her South instead of North. Not so much that she wishes them against her, but enough that she wishes them done. Wishes them committed.
She leans into his kiss, bites at the velvet of his lip.
“Give yourself to me,” she commands and somehow makes it sound like submission.
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