07-05-2017, 04:23 PM
THANA.
(as black as your soul)
”Wait.”
Her voice is soft, and as smooth as a river stone – quietly, she emerges from the shadow of the thicket, her mismatched eyes alight with indiscernible emotion – while her teeth are bared in a wide, cunning smile. There is little else but darkness, but she has never known anything else. The shadow of evenfall caresses her skin, soothing the warmth stirred to the surface by her rapid heartbeat and rush of adrenaline. The pale moonlight is bleak, and cannot overcome the density of the looming canopy overhead – but ever so slightly, it manages to sneak between the splayed branches, bathing her in its celestial light.
Across her forehead and draped over her single blackened eye lay a stripe of ivory; the only part of her separating her from the heavy darkness enveloping the forest. And he, bright and blinding – as unabashedly alabaster as the full moon itself, glowing beneath its streaked light, and she is drawn to him as a moth is to a flame. His eyes are dark, insidious (oh, how it sends a shiver of excitement down the length of her spine) but a deep abyss of bloodstained red – a beacon, drawing her in.
Quietly, she closes the vacant space that lay between them, her slate skin in sharp contrast to the paleness of his own, and her shoulder presses against his – urging him to stop; unafraid of his prowess (for she has a prowess of her own, and she had shown it to him – what she is capable of; what she can do). Her breath is warm across his cheek, as her mismatched eyes trace the faint scarring beneath his pristine skin – he is battle worn; fearless and relentless.
Her mouth is ravenous, and her lips are hungry, lightly touching his jawline – tasting the musk and sweat that cling there, beneath his long and tangled tresses, and softly, she speaks.
”Tell me, what you have in mind – will it ruin lives?” Her words are but a whisper, quivering with excitement, flush against his skin in the shadow of dusk – waiting.
Her voice is soft, and as smooth as a river stone – quietly, she emerges from the shadow of the thicket, her mismatched eyes alight with indiscernible emotion – while her teeth are bared in a wide, cunning smile. There is little else but darkness, but she has never known anything else. The shadow of evenfall caresses her skin, soothing the warmth stirred to the surface by her rapid heartbeat and rush of adrenaline. The pale moonlight is bleak, and cannot overcome the density of the looming canopy overhead – but ever so slightly, it manages to sneak between the splayed branches, bathing her in its celestial light.
Across her forehead and draped over her single blackened eye lay a stripe of ivory; the only part of her separating her from the heavy darkness enveloping the forest. And he, bright and blinding – as unabashedly alabaster as the full moon itself, glowing beneath its streaked light, and she is drawn to him as a moth is to a flame. His eyes are dark, insidious (oh, how it sends a shiver of excitement down the length of her spine) but a deep abyss of bloodstained red – a beacon, drawing her in.
Quietly, she closes the vacant space that lay between them, her slate skin in sharp contrast to the paleness of his own, and her shoulder presses against his – urging him to stop; unafraid of his prowess (for she has a prowess of her own, and she had shown it to him – what she is capable of; what she can do). Her breath is warm across his cheek, as her mismatched eyes trace the faint scarring beneath his pristine skin – he is battle worn; fearless and relentless.
Her mouth is ravenous, and her lips are hungry, lightly touching his jawline – tasting the musk and sweat that cling there, beneath his long and tangled tresses, and softly, she speaks.
”Tell me, what you have in mind – will it ruin lives?” Her words are but a whisper, quivering with excitement, flush against his skin in the shadow of dusk – waiting.
@[Gryffen]