[mature] there is no other version of this story; kagerus

[rapt]

there is a dream in the space between the hammer and the nail ------ the dream of about-to-be-hit, which is a bad dream ------------ but the nail will take the hit if it gets to sleep inside the wood forever Her powers make real his dream, the world around them shaping, brightening. The colors spring into vision, otherworldly, the fecund scents of the undergrowth below and trees above. There is sound, too, birds calling, the river rushing, but then it quiets, and there is only her breath. Hers, and his. She’s pressed against him, molded, a finesse to the way their bodies curve together. There’s another kind of wanting in him, a more instinctual kind – baser – and it’s overwhelming, too. She’s so close. And the way she speaks, the way she touches him – with confidence, with promise – only stirs more things within him, and he is hopeless, and confused. Am I yours? she asks, and he almost laughs at the question. He could never posses such a thing as she, he’s unworthy (that he’s here at all stuns him, in this magical world, this lush paradise, with her at his side). But her voice is pitched high, and the answer she expects – or wants - is yes. “Yes,” he says, though it feels strange, to pretend such a thing as he has any sort of claim to such a woman. He might have left it there, but she does something else and suddenly she is more, he feels her across every nerve ending. Her scent overwhelms, and that same wanting riots in his veins, a desire to claim, to take. “You’re mine,” he says, more assured this time. And it’s true, here, for there is no one else but them, and he is the one with a mouth on her neck, chest against hers, feeling every beat of her heart. rapt caius x else