Ellyse

I have the tendency of getting very physical,
so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.

  A soft moan escapes the tightness of her throat, where her breath catches when his weight is upon her, while the darkness of his legs wrap around her own, drawing her hips closer to him where the heat of his desire lay.    

  The warmth of his breath across her shoulder while his teeth press and bite gently at her golden skin causes her to gasp softly and writhe toward him, shifting beneath his weight while the desire building within her loin causes her to ache. The fullness of him elicits a deep groan and a soft whisper of his name on her pale lips, and it is nothing like the first time shared beneath a hazy, starless night, so guarded and seeking sheer pleasure to distract from loneliness. It had been a fervent but empty; a feeble attempt to bury an ache for him and for her.

  The gentle caress of his lips across her quivering spine and the slow and rhythmic pace makes her tremble and press closer to him. The breathiness in each rough, husky moan whispered against her skin rouses a groan of her own from her throat as he is brought closer (deeper) with each thrust. She is lost to the moment, enveloped by the heat of his skin pressed against her own, and intoxicated by the sensation of him. With her chin tilted toward the starlit sky, as it bathed their fused bodies in a celestial glow, her hazel eye searches the darkness of his own, slow and wanton moans drawn out of her throat with deepening desire.

  She does not shy away from the intimacy shared with him – keeping his gaze locked with her own, while the slow and methodical pace of his writhing hips bring her to the precarious edge of her own undoing. With each movement forward, she embraces him, clutching him closer to her. With a strangled moan of his name, she is tightening around him, while the heavy tide of her climax washes over her in thick, heavy waves, drawing her further out to a sea of his affection – anchored to him as she had never thought possible while he buries himself and his seed inside of her.

  Her breath is lost to her for a moment, while each nerve-ending is lit with a flickering flame of sated desire, causing her to shiver and to shake. When the warmth of his cheek brushes across the curve of her hip as he is bound to the soil with gravity once more, her desire to feel his weight again strengthens. Languidly, her gaze is cast toward him again, with her dampened ivory forelock draped over her cheek, as her legs pivot to press closer to him. Her pale mouth touches the sharp angle of his jaw and the softness of his whiskered lips. Quietly, softly, her lips brush against his own – an intimacy never shared with him (the physical urgency of their coupling long ago had no place for affection, nor for connection – a kiss meant closeness, it meant tenderness and she had been too wary, too cautious then).

  A kiss pressed where it had never been before.

  She can hardly suppress the foolish smile from tugging at the corner of her mouth. Inebriated by his warmth, she is sated and yet wanting more of him, her lips trail across his jaw, savoring the feel of his rapid pulse thrumming from the sheer adrenaline and intensity of their union.

  Softly, quietly, with a mirthful lilt of laughter hidden within the breathlessness, she murmurs simply, “Wow.”

You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone;
you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.

Don't say I'm out of touch with this rampant chaos; your reality.
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge.

  ”And just like that, you’ve ruined the moment,” she exhales, though there is a glimmer of mischief hidden away within the gold lacing of her hazel eye as she quietly traces the sharp angle of his jaw before brushing the softness of her lips across it again. Her lashes close for a moment, caressing his cheek, while a low hum of satisfaction is pressed against the darkness of his skin. Her lips do not stop until placed in the crease of his neck, feeling his pulse slowly thrum to a steady rhythm, not unlike her own. Her breath still emerges in soft puffs across the column of his neck, bathing in the afterglow – lost to him, lost to the pale moonlight and the celestial sky overhead, beckoning her to be among the stars – but she does not.

  He is all the starlight that she desires, in the darkening descent of evenfall – her restless and tireless mind at ease, if only for a moment, while her pale lips trace the outline of the distant shoreline across the broadness of his shoulder. Contentedly, her teeth pry and pluck bramble and brush from the dark entanglement strewn haphazardly across his neck, tasting the saltiness of perspiration trickling still down the length of his body. His question is heavy on her mind. She does not ignore it, but she does not answer him, either – at least not right away. Her cheek brushes along the rigid curve of his rib cage, feeling the way his breath and heartbeat surge with life beneath the obscure blackness of his skin.

  ”No one would accuse me of having decorum,” she muses softly, her gaze averted from his own, searching the churning, ravenous tide instead – wondering how it might feel against her dampened skin; how it might feel between each bristled feather. ”but I have spent .. so much time biting my tongue when I should not. Not saying what I should, when I should.” She breathes along the hollow of his hip, before resting her cheek across his lower back. ”I thought .. I might never see Smoak again; that I might never see Joplin, or Joaquin ..” (bittersweet, each name is across her tongue) ”I almost lost everything.”

  And even more quietly,

  ”I almost lost you.”

  A breath, slow and sullen, expands the empty void of her lungs.

  ”Whatever this is, whatever we are – it is what it is,” and then she is bristling again, recoiling, as she always had. It takes several moments of careful consideration before she can force her guard down again, before she can say what is on her mind, and when she does, she awaits the vivacity of his cerulean gaze, meeting with her own before speaking again. ”whatever this is, it makes me happy, and it’s enough for me.”

Ellyse

(The nightmare) I built my own world to escape

Don't say I'm out of touch with this rampant chaos; your reality.
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge.

  She, too, is lost to the tranquility of evenfall – to the distant churning of the ocean tide along the dark shoreline, to the rhythm of his heartbeat falling in line with her own. Her kisses are soft, tracing the curve of bone along his hip, and along the ridge of his spine, while the long, tangled tendrils of ivory follow to drape over the darkness of his skin. She is lost to the moment, quiet and thoughtful, thinking then of how strange and peculiar life can be – how unpredictable the heart can be. She had long since buried the ache of loss within her chest, though the scathing burn if left behind made her wary of vulnerability. Hesitant to unveil herself, to give any part of herself away –

  But somewhere along the way, he had found his way into her heart in a way that no one else ever had. He not only held her heart, but her respect, her admiration, her loyalty. He had been a lover only one fleeting, heat-filled moment long ago, but over time he became her closest companion, a devoted father to a son born in less than desirable circumstances, and then her anchor – tethering her when she felt adrift at sea. He had seen her in her darkest moments, never spurned by her biting tongue, nor by the frigidity of her demeanor each time her heart closed off, guarded.

  Slowly, but surely, he managed to break away at the fortified wall erected around her vulnerability – brick by brick, chasing away the shadow of doubt in her gaze, quieting the uncertainty that effervesced in her chest each time his lips pressed a kiss into the hollow of her throat. She thought she had known love. Had she ever known it, or had she only willed love to be where it never had been? She cannot surrender to the thought of being imprisoned in the barren wasteland that had torn her eye from its socket; she cannot give into the thought of Ledger and what had become of him. He had betrayed her, deeply, irreversibly, and though that very same devastating pang of sorrow is hidden somewhere beneath the surface, there is a part of her that is all too aware that she had betrayed him, too.

  That her heart had deceived him (and her, in turn) as she fell deeper and more undeniably in love – with someone else.

   Sensing him shiver beneath her touch, her kisses become more firmly pressed into the crook of his thigh, wondering how long it might take to trace every inch of him. She hoped it might take an eternity.

  He does not deny her assertion, and her heart is all the more mended for it. The knowledge that she had almost lost him, that she had almost lost everything she held close to her fickle, pathetically broken heart is difficult to swallow – but the thought of burying it, of sweeping it aside and pretending it was not true felt unbearable. The potential of loss kept her heart beating. It kept her close to him, seeking his touch, desiring his closeness. It kept her open, exposed – it kept her honest.

  His cheek relaxes along the curve of her hip at the end of her back, and her hazel eye searches the darkness for his, observing the silhouette of his strong features draped in ethereal light from the starlit sky. His confession is so certain, her heart does not skip a beat until he is quiet again, until the weight of what he has said to her has processed fully, filling her chest with warmth and elation and trepidation. She is quiet for a long moment, but her gaze never strays from his own, holding cerulean to jade with a certainty of her own.

  ”I love you too, Dahmer,” she murmurs finally, humming against the blackness of his hip. ”I think I have for a long time.”

Ellyse

(The nightmare) I built my own world to escape