Kiss me again
Kiss me until I am sick of it
Aela doesn’t even bat an eyelash in the face of his rudeness, doesn’t break down in tears or even meet him head on with aggression. Instead she fixes him in her cool oceanic stare, a whisper of a smile on her lips. “Do you make your mind up so quickly?” A flicker of amusement in her words, in the cerulean iris’s that hold him unwaveringly. His sneer eases into a ghost of a smile. “Sometimes.” He responds quietly, only slurring slightly. Already having decided on her.
He had known from the first time he had met Aela that there was a coldness in her blood, watching how she stirred upheaval for Wherewolf in a matter of seconds with her appearance. It’s not that he thinks her an unfeeling bitch. No, he can just sense her ruthlessness (some may call it ambition which isn’t something he exactly has persay) but that speaks to the darker parts of himself that he’s hidden within the cruel armor he wears.
He can understand her hunger, even if they hungered for different things.
He can understand growing hungry in the first place.
They seem to see a truth in each other. She doesn’t look at him with disappointment, fear, or distaste, appreciating him for the feral sharp-tongued monster that he was. Perhaps she saw herself as the same. Like calls to like.
As she stands before him, the rays of the sun glinting along her gilded figure, he finds himself feeling recklessly bold. A soft cold breeze runs its fingers through her flaxen mane, dances through the long raven tendrils of his own, and she is moving towards him and he doesn’t stop her. “Is it everything you had dreamed of?” She asks and he cannot stop the sudden thought of sunlight catching through clear quartz, of angry eyes the shade of sage, the scent of rain soaked skin beneath his teeth. There’s a spasm of tension in his jaw as he pushes those thoughts away, as he looks at the wind swept gleaming striped mare, as he speaks before reaching for her in a smoky tone. “Almost.”
Obscene
@[Aela]