Is this his darkest timeline?
He can hear the words leave his mouth but they don’t sound like they belong to him. He wonders if these moments now are the worst that he will ever be, or if he is capable of more brutality still. He wonders if Spyndle were to appear in his peripheral if he would keep his resolve or see it crumble away like ash in the wind. He wonders, because things like this have ruined better men than him. He wonders, because he’s throwing around power he isn’t cautious enough to wield to begin with, because he’s going to be burnt - because she’s going to be burnt.
But it’s too late, isn’t it?
He’s made the leap, and all that’s left is the fall.
When Lepis asks him what the price is he laughs in her face and the sound is mangled and warped. She already knows; he can feel the realization as she sinks in against his touch, as the features on her face fall into straight lines. They both already know, because the way that he traces her scars now is akin to the way a lover might. He wants validation. He wants someone else to hurt the way that he hurts. He wants her.
He wants.
“You,” he states simply as he smiles against her skin. Drunk on power he can’t see how this is a bad idea; that this might ruin her, and turn to ash all that’s left that he admires now. It’s too late. So he presses his lips against her neck, whispers something inaudible against the softness of her skin, and he takes them away from here.
So that when he makes love to her its in between the galaxies, and the spaces that exist between a thousand different dimensions. So that when he makes love to her she will remember it for its magnitude.
So that she’ll call him a god, and she’ll mean it.
And this time when she opens her dark, wild eyes she’ll be home with the snow cascading in gentle waves all around her. It will remind her of the stars, of how small she really is in the grand scheme of everything else. And he’ll be standing skin-to-skin beside her, with his lips still pressed against the side of her neck and his warm breath spilling out across her shoulders. He’ll be invisible, choosing to exist only in the spaces between their breaths, but he’ll be there; a god and his creation.
ELEKTRUM
how time twines around your neck,
@[Lepis]