12-12-2020, 03:37 PM
Molech
Her thoughts are his - private moments all for him, orchestrated like a melody. The smile that adorns his face is one of satisfaction; he likes when the games are easy, but with her he can already tell that despite the ease in which she falls into him, there is something that rests in her eyes that he has not often seen: she has no fear. Her thoughts are poisonous as his and she does not care - she knows his darkness (though maybe not his intentions, only that it is dark and twisted and broken) and she wants to drink it up, much like he wishes to drown in her light.
“I’m sure you would,” Molech replies smoothly, his lavender eyes growing sharp beneath the evergreen of his eyelids. His golden tail flicks idly at the ivory of his ankles, tilting his head slightly and flexing the large wings that rest proudly at his sides. “Rosemary,” he repeats fondly, his smile growing smug on his handsome face as a single thought crosses his mind: he’ll tear her to pieces, and judging by the little smile on her dark lips, she’ll beg him to do it.
Molech matches her steps with his own, gracefully coming to position himself squarely before her. He turns his head gently to get a better look, those delicious lavender irises glancing up and down. Her next words elicit his forked tongue from his mouth almost angrily, flickering from his lips and tasting the air. “Is that so,” he muses, his voice turning dark. His gold-tipped ears are lost within his luscious mane, his mouth quirking into something of a snarl; he would not save his charms for her, not when it is so apparent she already knows every inch of him.
Then she smiles like she knows a secret and it sends him into motion. He steps closer now and in quick succession, their faces suddenly within inches of each other. He crosses boundaries and comfort zones without a thought by nearly tracing her dark and glittering jawline with his lips, his breath wavering on her skin. “I think you already know what it means, Rose,” and there is darkness in his voice, sinister yet somehow equally affectionate, dripping with pride.
She tempts what she does not understand.
Or, maybe, she does.
“Is it what draws you to me? Could you live, little shadow, without seeing it again?”
“I’m sure you would,” Molech replies smoothly, his lavender eyes growing sharp beneath the evergreen of his eyelids. His golden tail flicks idly at the ivory of his ankles, tilting his head slightly and flexing the large wings that rest proudly at his sides. “Rosemary,” he repeats fondly, his smile growing smug on his handsome face as a single thought crosses his mind: he’ll tear her to pieces, and judging by the little smile on her dark lips, she’ll beg him to do it.
Molech matches her steps with his own, gracefully coming to position himself squarely before her. He turns his head gently to get a better look, those delicious lavender irises glancing up and down. Her next words elicit his forked tongue from his mouth almost angrily, flickering from his lips and tasting the air. “Is that so,” he muses, his voice turning dark. His gold-tipped ears are lost within his luscious mane, his mouth quirking into something of a snarl; he would not save his charms for her, not when it is so apparent she already knows every inch of him.
Then she smiles like she knows a secret and it sends him into motion. He steps closer now and in quick succession, their faces suddenly within inches of each other. He crosses boundaries and comfort zones without a thought by nearly tracing her dark and glittering jawline with his lips, his breath wavering on her skin. “I think you already know what it means, Rose,” and there is darkness in his voice, sinister yet somehow equally affectionate, dripping with pride.
She tempts what she does not understand.
Or, maybe, she does.
“Is it what draws you to me? Could you live, little shadow, without seeing it again?”
YOUR PRECIOUS LIGHT IS FADING
