"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT & SATISFACTION BROUGHT HIM BACK
His shoulders have healed, though they still grow stiff after a night of sleep, and they still feel odd without the weight of his wings. Even now, months later, he is awoken by haunting dreams (Carnage's laughter, the death of Smoak) nearly every night, but the black beast has learned how to handle the memories during the daytime. He keeps his demeanor light and warm when he is around Smoak, but otherwise the blue-eyed stallion remains silent and brooding.
Dahmer thinks of Ledger often. Of his brokenness. It makes his heart heavy, knowing that Ellyse has, too, been shattered in some way. Carnage had caused more damage than Dahmer had originally considered, and only now does the immensity of it sink in.
He sighs quietly, his gait marred by a small hitch in his step. The black stallion ignores it and continues through the humid territory, turquoise blue eyes drifting lazily over the expanse of Tephra. He has sent the newest recruit (whose name Dahmer does not yet remember) to survey their southern border because he is, after all, still the Commander, though he cannot see the other stallion from here. He makes a mental note to catch up with the Guard's newest helper at some point today.
Ellyse appears on the horizon and Dahmer is drawn to her. There is a comfort in the champagne mare's company and it's her presence alone that he craves more than solitude. He has distanced himself from Scyla, even, until he is sure that his sister has calmed her rage towards Carnage ─ he cannot bear to think of her seeking vengeance on the Dark God, and he knows she won't do so if his last words to her were his own begging that she would drop it.
"Ellyse," he says, warm and gruff as he comes to a halt in front of the one-eyed mare. He reaches his muzzle for her neck, pressing it gently against her golden coat before sighing gently and allowing his bright eyes to close so that he can revel in her existence, all restraint from before their torture forgotten.
I have the tendency of getting very physical, so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
Time had healed many of her wounds, but for each one mended, another is untouched.
The lacerations along her shoulders and flank have faded into pale remnants of what once was, and only time would tell as to whether the raised, puckered flesh would become the scarring she knew it could be. Her winged appendages no longer hang loosely across her bruised and battered rib cage – instead, the feathers are yet again preened carefully into place, tucked with rigid precision long the length of her body. The single, broken bone hidden somewhere beneath the alabaster sheen of feathers has yet to heal – she cannot fly, not yet, and being grounded, being bound to the soil did little to soothe her restlessness.
Her empty eye socket, too, healed in time – she is not ashamed of it; it is a symbol of all that she had endured to find a way back to her children, to her heart (or what is left of it) – to Tephra. It is barren, sullen and sunken. It is difficult not to stare, even for her as she stares into the stillness of the water before her, studying the darkness beneath her hazel eye, the dimly light of her iris – the open void where another once lay, plucked out by a merciless, monstrous deity, hell-bent on destroying her with a single, unbound thread.
Ledger is never far from her mind.
Where he had gone, bleeding and broken, she did not know – but she could not save him from himself; she could not save him from the darkness that had begun to seep into his chest, devouring whatever light and love she had found hidden within long ago. She cannot save him. Magnus, Ledger, Warrick – a pattern, deeply embedded into her, draining her of her strength, enveloping her existence into the desire to be the savior where none could be.
She cannot save him, though she yearns to find him, to mend the wounds her selfishness had carved into his already broken and battered heart – to kiss away the anguish she had brought to him. It is impossible. He had been broken long before her, and he would be broken long after her – just as his father was and had been. Had he loved her at all? Had she loved him? Or were they merely two souls adrift, longing to cling onto something to keep them afloat?
Her reverie is jarred by the soft voice of another, and through her tangled, ivory forelock, her single eye searches the darkened plane of Dahmer’s face. She is startled, but warmed at the sight of him, though she does shy away for a moment – averting her gaze to the reflection of her own sullen features before her. The hollowness of her empty eye socket is not a feature of hers that she tries to hide, but with him – there is a vulnerability; a coyness she cannot stifle.
”Dahmer,” she murmurs softly when he presses against her neck, inhaling her scent and she does the same, resting her cheek against the broadness of his. She can hear his heartbeat thrumming beneath, and it soothes her for a moment, and she can forget the roiling ocean and the stifling heat and simply be for a moment.
She does not stop there. Her lips and teeth brush across the base of his spine, where his tangled, dark mane lay. Her teeth delicately pluck brush entangled in each knot, as her lips trail down to his shoulder, where each wing had been torn away from his body (and her own feathers flinch at the thought, sending a shiver down her spine). She presses a kiss where the fresh, healing skin is smooth, gleaming beneath the pale sunlight, and she sighs.
Dahmer does not need saving.
He simply needs her to be.
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.
CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT & SATISFACTION BROUGHT HIM BACK
She shies briefly and he hesitates, unsure whether it's his presence or something else that has startled her. But when she draws close to him again, he forgets his reservations and leans into her touch, a small smile finding his lips at the way she whispers his name in return. There is no urgency or awkwardness in their shared company, no reason to be things they are not or hide the complications of their past. He can simply be himself with her ─ slightly broody, perhaps, but entirely genuine, and with each day that passes he can feel himself slipping into the role he had seen his mother be for his father.
The Hellhound, loyal only to Executioner, a steady and unfaltering pillar.
Desole would have, he knows, preferred for him to aim higher. To lead his own territory, to pillage and raid and overthrow. But he had done those things in the Subway, he had led it and the rest of Azza to greatness, and he had sated his desire for leadership. He wants to be something different now. An important cog, of course, but something... new. Something his mother would have never wanted for him. The blue-eyed beast sighs gently into Ellyse's touch, nearly frowning when she moves from his cheek, only to relax once more when he realizes what she is doing.
A sound of satisfaction thrums in his throat as her lips and blunt teeth linger at his withers. After a time, she navigates to his newly-wingless shoulders and despite the marred flesh there, he is not embarrassed for her to place a gentle kiss upon his skin there. A slow, breathy exhale slips from his muzzle as he reaches his own nose for her, letting his flaring nostrils breathe warmth against her neck and shoulder before his lips curl back to allow his blunt teeth a chance to nibble at her back withers and back.
He needs no words to show her his appreciation for her company, and so he relaxes comfortably beside the champagne mare, doting on her fondly.
I have the tendency of getting very physical, so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
The warmth of his breath brushing across her shoulder is a source of comfort; soothing whatever restless and wayward wariness still lingered within the pit of her stomach. She is weary and worn, pressing into his affectionate embrace, and it is only within his presence that she can permit her guard to slip – to allow the façade of her indifference to falter. Even when her heart had belonged to another, she had sought him out, seeking the security of his presence and the reassurance of his caress, however light, however innocent. She had been foolish to imagine it chaste; to not see the way her heartstrings were so easily plucked by him and how easily he could chase away the shadow of her doubt, of her insecurity.
His lips and teeth brush across her own back in turn, and a shiver stirs her pale feathers, bristling as the salty ocean breeze drapes over their silhouettes, while the distant sun begins to dip beyond the horizon, bathing each of them in a splendor of amethyst and indigo. Quietly, her lips begin to press more firmly along the darkness of his spine, tracing it slowly, inhaling the scent of the island clutching to his skin. The dogwood, the sagebrush, the brine of the sea itself envelope her, drawing her closer to him, and a kiss is placed deliberately in the crease where the curve of his leg is met with the muscle along his hip, before encircling him.
Her feathers press along the ridge of his barrel in stark contrast – pale ivory to dark obsidian, and all the while, her cheek is pressed against his shoulder. The golden flecks of her eye reflect the warmth of the falling sun, while she observes the rounded curve of his jawline, brushing her pale lips along the column of his neck. Her caresses are slow, unhurried and gentle, and so unlike her. Even when she had tucked herself against him beneath a canopy of starlight, or fallen asleep beside him near to the frothing seafoam, lapping lazily along the shoreline, she had hidden away from the warmth he naturally drew from somewhere deep within. Buried. Hidden.
She was tired of hiding.
”Do you remember when we first met?” she murmurs softly against the shadow of his skin, her gaze averted, focused on the glimmer of the waning sunlight across the restless, tinted seawater. There is a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, and a glint in her eye. ”You were moping by a lava stream. I even thought you might cry; I almost kept my distance,” she muses, teasingly pressing the velvet plane of her nose against his jaw, nudging him with a mischievous smile – but it is fleeting. ”I never thought ..”
She is quiet then, and the echo of the churning sea pooling onto the distant shoreline presses into the void, enveloping her until it is all that she can hear. Quietly, softly: ”Foolish me,” she breathes; her honesty enough to cause her chest to seize and grow tight. ”I have never told you what you mean to me, Dahmer .. I think we both know too well that I am no good with words, but ..”
I do more harm than good.
The memory of Ledger, furious and rife with hatred in his eye, warning her has yet to fade - he knew a truth she had been hiding even from herself; the thought of him causes her heart to clench and to ache, and so she tries to wall herself away from the pain.
A soft sigh, averting her gaze to the dry and brittle vegetation swaying to and fro with the wayward wind, caressing her gilded legs. Softly, with her lips pressed against his jaw, ”I hope that you know.”
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.
CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT & SATISFACTION BROUGHT HIM BACK
The obsidian and ivory pair groom each other in the fading sunlight. He's lost in her scent, soaking it in as his blunt teeth move from her spine and then back to her withers, pausing momentarily when her touch grows more fervent. Dahmer responds in kind, his muzzle pressing to her sleek hide and preening her feathers with careful sensuality. There is something about Ellyse that continues to draw him back to her ─ their courtship had not been fiery and passionate. It had not lead him into the arms of infatuation, or had it made him feel crazy with jealousy. It had made him feel safe. Comforted.
And now it feels like home.
The champagne mare's muzzle dips lower and presses tantalizingly to the curve of his muscled hip and Dahmer responds with a throaty chuckle, his blue eyes closing slowly to indulge in her caress. She doesn't linger long, though, and instead curls herself around him without reservation. The black thoroughbred looks over his shoulder at her with guile, dying to know what thoughts are coursing through her head at this very moment that had fueled her outright affections.
Her head presses gently to his shoulder when she finally comes along his side and he leans gently into the champagne mare, his own turquoise eyes gazing out over the raucous ocean. After a time, her voice breaks their silence in the most welcoming of ways and he responds with more quiet laughter. "Of course I remember," he whispers as her muzzle comes up to caress his jaw. Dahmer tilts his head into the touch as she falls silent again. He waits to speak, not wanting to break whatever spell has opened up Ellyse's private thoughts this evening.
Foolish me.
He turns his dark head to regard her curiously, though her own hazel eyes (the ones that their son inherited) do not meet his blue ones as she confesses her feelings. Dahmer's face softens and for the first time since their abductions, he does not think of Carnage or his lair. His breath catches and he holds it for fear that if he exhales he will miss what she has to say, and when she does finally whisper against his jaw,
he is thankful that her words are not lost in the roar of the ocean.
"I know," he whispers back, his voice rife with emotion, "And I hope you know..." he pivots his body away from her so that they are again nose to nose. He moves his touch to her cheek, her neck, the hollow of her chest, "that you will never be alone again." No matter who she may love, wherever she may go... he will be here. For friendship, for more... Dahmer is committed to her. And he begins to show it by moving his heated touch by her shoulder and to her curved flank, where he allows it to rest and nibble before hinting further south.
I have the tendency of getting very physical, so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
She can feel his wonderment in the heaviness of his gaze, and perhaps that is why she is so deeply focused on the frothing waves as the sea caresses the shoreline, drawing particles of sand away with the tide, where the intensity of her confession is safe enough to be adrift at sea – should she shy away from giving too much of herself away. There is no turning back once the cadence of her softly spoken words have reached him; enveloping him – she cannot take it back; she cannot hide away from the certainty of what lay before her. She had unveiled her heart too often, and it had burned her, leaving her with the unseen scarring on a tired and weary heart.
She had been wistful, youthful once – enamored by wisdom, by might, and she had fallen in love once with a soul too old and too damaged to give, let alone to take. She had been impulsive once; swallowed by the sheer strength and intensity of infatuation and physical attraction, only to have time itself delve the dagger of veracity deep into her chest. She had loved, and she had lost – and yet, beneath the heartache, the uncertainty, and the anguish, she always had him – an unyielding, unwavering presence.
She had not see him then –
(Foolish me)
– but she can see him now.
His voice is so low, she can barely feel the thrum of his rough voice against her cheek, and she cannot quiet her hammering, rapidly beating heartbeat – knowing too well the sting of rejection, and knowing that the ferocity of emotion pooling within her chest might not be reciprocated, and so she had given it time. The tremors and hallucinations had become few and far between with each passing day. And oh, the nightmares! The blood, the carnage, the sheer weight of loss returned to her each and every night when the sun fell beyond the horizon, draping blackness all around her, but slowly, quietly, the nightmares began to slip away, leaving her restless – she knew that he, too, must have a burden of his own to bear –
The greatness of her affection for him did not fade; it grew - it blossomed each time she caught a glimpse of father and son, merely silhouettes against the fading sunrise – it blossomed each time she caught his eye, and a small but genuine smile was shared. It blossomed when words became meaningless, when he would come to her in the dark of night, to soothe her restless and broken sleep – and it blossomed when she found him, weeping, falling apart each time the memory of his grievous sin washed over him like the tireless, ravenous tide.
I know, he says, before pivoting the warmth of his body away from her own – she does not fear that he will go, that he will disappear from her side ( he had seen her unravel before, he had seen her trembling with afterbirth clinging to her quivering legs, he had seen her broken and bleeding and falling apart but never had he faltered). His whiskered lips brush against her cheek, her neck, her chest – where her heart is beating so loudly, thrusting against her rib cage – and she cannot hide the smile that tugs at the corner of her mouth, or the soft chuckle that surely follows.
”I want to believe that,” (I need to believe that) she divulges with a soft hitch in her breath as the heat of his mouth begins to touch beyond the chasteness of her cheek. She can feel the truth of his declaration in her chest, the warmth of knowing that he had never been anything but honest with her, and the warmth is trailing down along the column of her neck to her shoulder, where his caress becomes fervent and heated, with the warmth of his breath caressing the muscle beneath. A soft hum of awakening vibrates across the darkness of his neck from her throat, where her pale lips brush and caress, traveling the length to the ridge of his shoulder and along his flank as his own mouth touches where coiled muscle meets delicate, sensitive skin.
A soft gasp hitches again against his hip, her breath caressing the darkness of his scarred skin as her hip presses against the heat of his mouth, igniting a flickering ember that slowly traverses each tender, sensitive nerve-endings, setting fire to a desire and a passion that had grown from so much more than the empty physical need and instinctual yearning that had coupled them so long ago.
”Dahmer,” she croons softly to him, breathless and waiting, never wanting anything more – never wanting him to stop.
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.
CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT & SATISFACTION BROUGHT HIM BACK
His confession is met with suspicion and Dahmer can only smirk at her ─ how Ellyse it is to fight the truth, to refuse to believe that she can depend on someone other than herself, and so he takes no offense to her response. How could he, when he had seen her sorrow firsthand? He had been there when Magnus had fled... when Ledger had done the same. The champagne mare is strong, but she is not unbreakable ─ even beneath her diamond shield.
"I'm not asking you to believe me ─ but let me show you," he says gruffly into her shoulder, where her ivory feathers gleam bright in the fading sunlight. He thinks of the river, two broken souls meeting under the cover of dark, fulfilling the need for closeness without a thought in the world to what their future would hold. Dahmer hadn't known then that she would become the one being that he would follow to the ends of the earth, but he knows there is no denying it now.
He preens her feathers as if he has known her for a lifetime, drawing nearer and nearer to her curved flank as another hum of satisfaction reverberates in his muscled chest. Ellyse's demure gasp turns his hum into an outright groan with no desire to mask the sound at all. His whiskered muzzle is pressed feverishly to her sleek coat, laying small kisses across the muscle of her leg and the curve of her barrel. The black beast moves slowly, ensuring that he gives his undivided attention to every part of her.
His inhales become breathy and quick, her scent intoxicating him. Dahmer's blue eyes flutter closed as she whispers his name, coy and sensual, and he curls his lips back to tug carefully on the tender flesh at the front of Ellyse's leg. His nostrils continue to flare as his maw rounds underneath her belly, pushing carefully by her feathers to reach the sensitive parts of her. His ears twist back and he drinks in the sound of her own rapid breaths, and he wonders if her heart is beating just as quickly as his.
"Tell me what you want, Ellyse," he requests of her as his muzzle rounds the back of her leg, his dark body still plastered against hers. He pauses for a second and watches her mischievously, his voice gruff with desire when he does speak again. "I want to hear you say it," he goads playfully as he lips teasingly at her tail.
I have the tendency of getting very physical, so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
How could he want her?
Broken – fragmented in a way that can never be mended; damaged in a way that can never be undone. And yet, he, too is broken in a way – she had seen the deepest and darkest part of him unravel beneath the pale moonlight; she had felt him tremble and she had seen him sheathed in blood, feeble, worn, and defeated. There was kinship in the suffering she had endured with him; she understood him, and he – he had always understood her. He had seen past the darkness she yearned to cover herself with, and he had never seen her as the hardened, fierce warrior of wit and prowess she portrayed herself to be.
She was so much weaker, beneath the flawless gleam of her proverbial armor – and even weaker with his lips pressed against the curve of her hip, and then lower, where his breath caresses the crease of her thigh, causing her to quiver in anticipation. The ivory feathers shiver and bristle as a tremor of delight traverses her spine, chasing away the frigidity of evenfall as the celestial sky above unsheathes itself, bathing the volcanic island in a splendor of starlight.
Instead, she is swathed in warmth, drawn up from the hearth of her chest, covering her – pooling within her groin, awakening a part of her she thought lost to the anguish, to the destruction that had become her existence. A soft moan is pulled from her lips, her arousal growing with each soft kiss, with each gentle caress – but she is soon restless, her pulse thrumming and her gaze heavy and settled on his own, mischievous and aroused. Her hips sway, to and fro for a moment, while the rounded curve of her hindquarters presses back against the warmth of his dark lips –
”Let me show you,” she says demurely, though the glint within her eye is anything but coy and prim. Pivoting toward him, her teeth and lips brush yet again across the slope of his spine, tasting the lingering brine of the sea with the salt of the sun, though her kisses are warmer, more fervent – yearning to taste him, to touch him more intimately than she had dared to before. Her hip presses against his shoulder, the scent of her own arousal enveloping him, while her teeth and lips slowly coax his own as her long and lustrous tail grazes the length of his foreleg.
The bridge of her nose brushes along his underbelly as the heat of him touches her lips – she is brazen, tasting him, teasing him, the warmth of her breath and tongue caressing the sensitive skin as the soft hum of her satisfaction thrums against his hip when she emerges. Slowly, she brushes the length of her ivory-laced wing alongside him, as the finely preened lines of feathers bristle and sweep along his quivering flank. Rounding him, her soft kisses become more ardent, burning with a desire growing and filling her with need, as she is once again before him, with her hip aligned with his shoulder – all the while, her gaze searches his own, burning, craving him deeply and blossoming with a longing only he can sate.
”I want you,” she murmurs, knowing that beneath the impish smile and coy wickedness of his humor, he is yearning to know that she is in need of him as he is of her – her heart is hammering so powerfully against her chest, she is certain it might burst from within, at the sheer adrenaline of confessing her want for him – openly, unabashedly. ”I want you to show me; I want you to take me.”
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.
CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT & SATISFACTION BROUGHT HIM BACK
It is easy to want her. To smile at the sight of her. To think of her often. She, who has spent so long protecting herself that she has forgotten what it's like to be taken care of, who prefers not to be doted upon at all. She who had entrusted him with the knowledge of her pain and suffering. She who had accepted his own flaws and missteps. Yes, it's easy to want Ellyse, even when she can't see her own strength. He hopes that he can eventually show her that it is not weakness to lean on another ─
It's life. And it's love.
The quiver of her feathers against his side draws a warm grin across Dahmer's scarred face as his lips continue to rove, kisses pressed softly and then more fervently against her soft champagne coat. He voices his desire for her with hushed groans and throaty growls when the scent of her heat clings to his fluttering nostrils. His own ardor grows with each moment that passes and it's not long before he cannot deny his need for her as his groin begins to ache and unsheathe the product of his desire.
Her curved hip sways, pressing alluringly against the muscle of his shoulder. The blue-eyed beast is still for a moment, lost in her heady scent until the mare's nose dips teasingly under his belly. She coaxes him further from his sheathe and draws a loud groan from the thoroughbred stallion as his loins grow hot and full. "Ellyse," he hisses through clenched teeth as she slithers around him, acting the part of both predator and prey. Though not unwelcome, Dahmer's weakness for Ellyse and her touch is unexpected, and yet he allows himself to succumb to it entirely.
His dark tail slaps against the back of his legs in restless, heated agitation and Dahmer tries to restrain himself, wanting to prolong this anatomical exploration just a bit longer just as his companion's warm nose and breathy exhales greet the sensitive skin hidden between his legs. "Ellysssee," he growls again and tosses his head upward, blue eyes rolling at the immensity of his need. He doesn't expect her to say anything else after her offer to show him, so when she finds her voice again, a sensual murmur, a burst of heat throbs through him and Dahmer spins quickly, tearing his body away from hers only to come up behind her and diminish any space between her rump and his shoulder.
"Say it again, kitten," he requests brazenly of her, forthcoming with his desire to hear her private confessions ─ his desire to see her as she truly is, free and unafraid to ask for what she wants.
To demand what she wants.
"Tell me... just once more," he whispers as he takes a small step back, his black head curled close to his chest so that he may dip his nose beneath the tousled tresses of her tail, to delve into the heat of her desire with fervor.
I have the tendency of getting very physical, so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
For a moment in time, she can forget that she is no longer whole – that she is no longer what she once was; the heat of his fervent kiss pressed against the quivering surface of her cheek, of her jaw is enough to chase away the shadow of doubt away, leaving her intoxicated by his caress. Yearning to trace every line, ridge and curve of his body. The vibration and hum of his arousal, breathed against her shoulder with a rumbling of ardent desire from the tightness of his throat coaxes one from her own, breathlessly sighed into the darkness of his hip.
The sensation of his coiled, taut muscles clenching and shivering with delight is inebriating, while her lips and teeth press and taste the fallen starlight and ash draped over the length of his marred, but indiscriminately flawless physique. The sheer adrenaline coursing through her veins pressing her closer to him, while the curve of her hip aligns perfectly with the crease of his flank, as her lips trail along the ridged column of his neck, tasting his pulse thrumming beneath her pale mouth.
Her name on his lips - huskily murmured with a fervent and growing hunger with the fullness of his desire – is enough to elicit a moan against the curve of his jaw. The plane of her forehead slowly traces the length of his maw, savoring the warmth of his breath weaving beneath her tousled tresses, sending a shiver down to the base of her spine. The tension within the roiling pit of her stomach has since blossomed into a fluttering fever lower and lower, leaving her breathless while her heartbeat quickens. It is made fiercer by the heat of his shoulder pressed along the curve of her rump, drawing out a soft and gasping moan from the tightness of her chest.
Say it again, and she is parted for him, splay-legged with a deep, carnal desire for him to fill her, to become one with her while her hips sway – writhing against him with a sensual need pooling within her loin. Tell me, he urges her, seeking to coax her out of the tightly bound box where she kept her darkest confessions, her deepest desires – but long gone are the far-off fantasies of governance, of control, of power, and her resolve has fallen away, leaving her bare and vulnerable to him.
Desiring only him – the warmth of his embrace, the heat of his ardent caress, the cadence of his voice moaning her name – beneath the pale moonlight that had held the unspoken enigma of their kinship for so long. When the soft caress of his whiskered mouth caresses the curve of her hip, trailing lower and delving beneath the entanglement of her tail, she can no longer contain her hitched breath, nor her strangled, stifled moan. Trembling, she presses against him, uncoiling, unraveling against his tongue, tremulous and overtaken by the intensity of her appetite for his touch and for him -
(Coupling with him beside the rough and raucous river in heartbreak so long ago held no candle to the raw ferocity and fire stoked from within her by his affectionate, hungry kiss now – black and white; sun and moon. The trust, the devotion, the love burning inside of her chest urging him closer to him, appreciating him in a way she never had before, wanting him in a way she had never felt before.)
”I need you, Dahmer,” she breathes, she moans breathlessly, her hazel eye cast over her shoulder in a timorous plea, ”please take me; take me now.”
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.
