05-11-2020, 12:32 AM
she fell for the idea of him
and ideas were a dangerous thing to love
and ideas were a dangerous thing to love
She recognizes the shift in him, only because it is something she is so familiar with. The shift when she is reminded that the games she plays are real and have real consequences; that he could drain her dry here in the forest, if he so chose, and there is a fleeting moment when the same powerless feeling that always finds her simmers in her veins. She is used to being powerless; she is used to being entirely at someone else’s mercy, so much so that she forgets that with this angelhood – as undeserving of it that she feels – there is a new power.
If she wanted, she could never let him touch her.
If she wanted she could let his teeth sink into nothing, she could become as tangible as fog, but she knows she won’t do it.
She wants her skin to break beneath his touch more than she wants any kind of control.
There is no resistance from her when he takes her; instead she softens in compliance, her slender neck arching when her delicate nose tucks near her chest. She bites back a gasp when his teeth dig into her wing, inciting a pain that shoots down into her shoulder, but all she can do is press closer to him. It feels different to be with a virtual stranger – she can’t even remember the last time it happened. Her heart was a fickle thing, always changing it’s mind or shaping itself in desperation to what it thought someone else wanted, but it rarely strayed from a core few.
It felt exhilarating, and yet somehow wrong; when she finally is released from the haze of sex and excitement she would wonder why this made her feel almost guilty when betraying Skellig rarely did.
He leaves her bleeding and trembling, but there is still not enough fear in her eyes when she looks to take in his handsome face. She doesn’t know what his words were meant to do; if they were meant to frighten or hurt her, but they fail to do either one. Instead she casts him a rueful smile when she says, “That’s assuming I don’t destroy it myself.”
If she wanted, she could never let him touch her.
If she wanted she could let his teeth sink into nothing, she could become as tangible as fog, but she knows she won’t do it.
She wants her skin to break beneath his touch more than she wants any kind of control.
There is no resistance from her when he takes her; instead she softens in compliance, her slender neck arching when her delicate nose tucks near her chest. She bites back a gasp when his teeth dig into her wing, inciting a pain that shoots down into her shoulder, but all she can do is press closer to him. It feels different to be with a virtual stranger – she can’t even remember the last time it happened. Her heart was a fickle thing, always changing it’s mind or shaping itself in desperation to what it thought someone else wanted, but it rarely strayed from a core few.
It felt exhilarating, and yet somehow wrong; when she finally is released from the haze of sex and excitement she would wonder why this made her feel almost guilty when betraying Skellig rarely did.
He leaves her bleeding and trembling, but there is still not enough fear in her eyes when she looks to take in his handsome face. She doesn’t know what his words were meant to do; if they were meant to frighten or hurt her, but they fail to do either one. Instead she casts him a rueful smile when she says, “That’s assuming I don’t destroy it myself.”
ryatah