His lavender gaze stays on her, tracing and memorizing the delicate swirls of stars and galaxies across her metallic skin. He finds it endlessly captivating and even in the hushed silver of the moonlight she glitters and glows, as if she is the only source of light. Molech wants to touch her, to taste her, to smell her more intimately but he bides his time - he plays the part of a curious colt meeting a sweet girl, despite how entranced he is with each part of her. He must not scare her away; he must keep her close. He must allow her to feel unrest around her and, without her even realizing it, find solace with him.
Her mind is gentle and lays open for him like a book. He is sweet in the way he thumbs through, soft and delicate so as not to disturb the innocent, wistful thoughts that reside there. She is thinking of the water and he likes how the water soothes her. She’s wondering about him then and a handsome smile creases the deep green of his mouth. “My father is, too,” he replies simply, turning his gaze from her just a moment to glance at the clear and crisp water below them. He remembers his father only briefly - he had held their heads beneath the water to see if they had inherited his ability. His sister had, Molech had not.
“Were you?” Molech’s young voice is laced with curiosity but it is just a whisper on the night air, his breath clouding before his dark lips as the chill of autumn rolls in. He is about to ask more of her, but her own idle wonderings give him pause, and the teal, white and gold colt closes his eyes briefly at her imaginings of the moon, silver and soft as its light crinkles across the river’s winding waters. He inhales deeply, her thoughts addictive and sweet on his tongue, leaving him wanting for more.
Her voice pulls his dark lids from his glimmering and pale irises, though now they are much more sharp and cold than they had previously been, falling to her fawn-like smile on her lips. He freezes for a moment, his handsome face calculating and stony. His gentle push into her mind with his voice makes her question him and he cannot hide the flame that suddenly burns in his lavender eyes. His dark teal mouth twitches (the only movement on his body) as he fights the urge to become violent with her by drawing the black of his thin, forked tongue across his lips, reminding himself to be careful.
The colt finally breaks his frozen posture with a dreamy smile, smoothing out the rigidity of his spine with a soft toss of his head as his tongue flicks back into his mouth. The aura of fear he had cloaked her with slowly retreats, learning that perhaps he had pushed too far too quickly. If he wanted her to be willing, he would have to be more cunning than this. While he is young and still learning, she is an exceptional specimen for practice. His voice is sickly sweet with bashfulness as he lowers his head slightly, glancing up at her from beneath his golden forelock. “I’m sorry,” he drawls, “was it too much? I forget that not everyone is used to hearing me in their head.” He lifts his head, eyes widening with a soft concern and a near pout on his lips.
“Please don’t leave yet.”
molech.
@[clementia]