11-23-2020, 12:11 AM
CrownS
Their curse is a greedy thing. It rolls its serpentine eye open and sees her, and it knows at once that this one belongs to it - to them, both. Crowns hardly minds the way she comes closer and slides her body up against his. He even lifts a wing to make room for her there next to him, warms his body to bite back the stinging cold of the frigid water around them. There is still a gentle kindness lurking in the background of his mind, even if he is so impossibly hungry.
Slowly, he lets little scales bloom from beneath his skin that shape themselves into barbs all down the length of his back. They will become an ouroboros, a serpent endlessly devouring itself in an effort to feel full. How perfect, how poetic to have found another shard of the thing that gave him his magic. He parts his lips and exhales a sigh of blue flame that flickers over her face without burning at her skin and hair.
“You’ll only be colder when I’m gone, you know,” he says as he grins. And he knows he would not stay, that she would not follow him where ever he went. Without even reaching into her mind or the pool of knowledge available to him, he knows this.
He wishes it wasn’t so. Crowns wishes he could drag his heart, kicking and screaming, where ever he willed it to take up space. But it merely haunts the cage of his chest without promising anything. It speaks in hypotheticals and maybes, then it drops its ideas like a bad habit.
Maybe he can pretend for a while, though. So he kisses her cheek and admires the glow of her stars beneath the water.
Slowly, he lets little scales bloom from beneath his skin that shape themselves into barbs all down the length of his back. They will become an ouroboros, a serpent endlessly devouring itself in an effort to feel full. How perfect, how poetic to have found another shard of the thing that gave him his magic. He parts his lips and exhales a sigh of blue flame that flickers over her face without burning at her skin and hair.
“You’ll only be colder when I’m gone, you know,” he says as he grins. And he knows he would not stay, that she would not follow him where ever he went. Without even reaching into her mind or the pool of knowledge available to him, he knows this.
He wishes it wasn’t so. Crowns wishes he could drag his heart, kicking and screaming, where ever he willed it to take up space. But it merely haunts the cage of his chest without promising anything. It speaks in hypotheticals and maybes, then it drops its ideas like a bad habit.
Maybe he can pretend for a while, though. So he kisses her cheek and admires the glow of her stars beneath the water.
you got me on my knees; i'm your one-man cult.