02-22-2017, 02:38 AM
your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine. i don't love you, but i always will.
Selfish. The word echoes in her mind, and she cannot deny the weight of the truth. She was undeniably selfish, craving to touch every crevice of his mind, yearning to undress the secrets that lay tucked within – old memories deeply buried, and forgotten bridges burning still. He moves and trembles against her, the rage melting away and with it, the walls he had built around his heart falter. He presses himself against her neck, and she relishes in the warmth of his heavy breath against her skin, her pallid tresses stirring from the gentle breeze and caressing the broad line of his cheek.
His voice is rough, riddled with emotion, hot against her skin and yet, she can savor no part of it. With each word uttered, he unravels, the very core of his being frayed at the seams as the fragile thread of a life – no, of two lifetimes – becomes strained from the immense surfacing of a pain he had never wanted to feel again. Gently, urgently, her lips reach to touch his skin again, attempting to sooth the flayed wounds she had so grievously opened, that she had so greedily sought. Her kisses barely ghost across the mottled russet and auburn blemishes on his skin, tasting the salty brine of dried sweat again, a wordless apology lingering behind each tender caress.
Joelle, a name she had heard many a time – once of his own volition; but a thousand times more from a deep, dark place, muttered under his breath in a fervent dream. Atrox, and Twinge – she had never heard either name, but he had whispered for the memory of his mother a time or two, a pain she herself had never known. Minette. Posy. Her heart aches, and a soft whispered apology barely touches the crest of his cheek. She could not imagine losing Canaan, or Hawke – each had become so deeply engrained into her heart, into her very purpose for living - but the loss of her stillborn daughter (with darkened points and the rich golden fur of her father, and vivid eyes that never once opened) still weighed heavily on her heart, and she can almost feel the profound depth of his agony in that moment.
At last, Makai – again, a name she had never heard, but brother had been uttered before, all while he shuddered beside her, lost to the nightmares that plagued his weary mind. Each name, heavier than the last, entangled into a delicate, intricately woven web of despair settles heavily on her rigid shoulders, where now his burden lay as her own. I’m sorry, her once bold voice whispers softly, over and over. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, she breathes, her own mind feeling spent and unraveled with each revelation. Gently, her lips travel the length of his neck and face once more, drawing him nearer to her, cradling him closer to her.
Finally, ”You have known so much more in life than I could have imagined, Magnus.” A shaky breath. A long pause. ”I am a fool – a selfish fool; I should never have asked, I should never have pushed you –“ and yet, and yet, she is far from altruistic, her deep hazel eyes searching an endless sea of brown, gold flecks meeting with his. ”- you are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You are so much more than you know.”
Ellyse