05-27-2021, 07:56 PM
Dark
He smiles, or at least she thinks that’s what it is when his mouth twists and a curious gleam alights in his sharp gaze. But it isn’t something warm or beautiful, it is cool and calculating, entirely predatorial and it forces a shudder to race along the delicate blue curve of her spine even as she forces herself not to be the one to break their twining gazes.
He is a predator, but she does not have to be prey, does she?
The water had fallen eerily still, vacant as though all the life had been forced out of it. But now it moves again, reaching for the mottled blue and white of her delicate light-soaked body. She cannot help but to glance down at it, wondering for a few beats of her pounding heart if this male really will try to drown her. “And what is it you want to do?” She asks, though she feels entirely certain that if he knows the answer to that question yet, he is unlikely to share it with her. “I am skilled at a great many things.” She says, and despite the fear that feels like hands closing around her throat, those dark eyes flash with amusement.
But his reaction to being touched is perhaps the most confusing puzzle of all. She had not expected him to let her do it, had thought he would dodge the gesture or just as easily drown her beneath his feet. But he allows to make contact, and it leaves her eyes a shade softer, her mouth no longer amused. His teeth grind and he threatens her again, but she is curiously mesmerized by the way her touch had changed him.
He is furious, she thinks, and it makes her want to touch him again. To unravel the reason why. But she chooses obedience instead, tilting her delicate head at him in question as the water writhes and rises and winds itself around her pale ankles. She doesn’t try to fight it, doesn’t try to run. Is almost certain that she doesn’t want to run from him.
“Can you feel me?” She asks instead, reaching down to touch her lips to the water that climbs careful spirals over the slender bones of her legs. “Can you feel my legs? My lips?” The second question draws heat to her face as her gaze returns to his, wide and unsure and finally, finally unbalanced. “You would have every one of my thoughts.” She whispers, and she reaches her nose closer to him again, asking something she herself does not even understand. But she does not touch him, does not try. “Even my last.” Then, a smile, and it is soft and secret and her eyes dance again with something like delight as she tells him, “I promise I won’t.” How could she possibly forget any of this.
The water releases its grip on her, and her eyes drift over his face again as though there might be secrets she could mine from him like precious gems. He takes a step back and for a moment she wonders if this will be it. The moment he is finished will her, already bored, and a puzzle she will never know. But his eyes remain on her and the intensity of his gaze is something bright and burning and she wishes for no reason she can name, that he would reach out and touch her as she had touched him. “Real.” She says, and there is something like shy heat simmering in her searching gaze.
“And me? Am I imaginary?” She asks, and then like a bold fool she cloaks herself in the night, slipping into her shadow camouflage as though she has herself become the dark. When her armor disappears, she is entirely invisible. But she doesn’t leave, is so completely unfinished with him that it feels like an ache in her belly. Instead she asks him again, her voice so soft and delicate, “Can you still feel me here?” She reaches down to touch the water.
He is a predator, but she does not have to be prey, does she?
The water had fallen eerily still, vacant as though all the life had been forced out of it. But now it moves again, reaching for the mottled blue and white of her delicate light-soaked body. She cannot help but to glance down at it, wondering for a few beats of her pounding heart if this male really will try to drown her. “And what is it you want to do?” She asks, though she feels entirely certain that if he knows the answer to that question yet, he is unlikely to share it with her. “I am skilled at a great many things.” She says, and despite the fear that feels like hands closing around her throat, those dark eyes flash with amusement.
But his reaction to being touched is perhaps the most confusing puzzle of all. She had not expected him to let her do it, had thought he would dodge the gesture or just as easily drown her beneath his feet. But he allows to make contact, and it leaves her eyes a shade softer, her mouth no longer amused. His teeth grind and he threatens her again, but she is curiously mesmerized by the way her touch had changed him.
He is furious, she thinks, and it makes her want to touch him again. To unravel the reason why. But she chooses obedience instead, tilting her delicate head at him in question as the water writhes and rises and winds itself around her pale ankles. She doesn’t try to fight it, doesn’t try to run. Is almost certain that she doesn’t want to run from him.
“Can you feel me?” She asks instead, reaching down to touch her lips to the water that climbs careful spirals over the slender bones of her legs. “Can you feel my legs? My lips?” The second question draws heat to her face as her gaze returns to his, wide and unsure and finally, finally unbalanced. “You would have every one of my thoughts.” She whispers, and she reaches her nose closer to him again, asking something she herself does not even understand. But she does not touch him, does not try. “Even my last.” Then, a smile, and it is soft and secret and her eyes dance again with something like delight as she tells him, “I promise I won’t.” How could she possibly forget any of this.
The water releases its grip on her, and her eyes drift over his face again as though there might be secrets she could mine from him like precious gems. He takes a step back and for a moment she wonders if this will be it. The moment he is finished will her, already bored, and a puzzle she will never know. But his eyes remain on her and the intensity of his gaze is something bright and burning and she wishes for no reason she can name, that he would reach out and touch her as she had touched him. “Real.” She says, and there is something like shy heat simmering in her searching gaze.
“And me? Am I imaginary?” She asks, and then like a bold fool she cloaks herself in the night, slipping into her shadow camouflage as though she has herself become the dark. When her armor disappears, she is entirely invisible. But she doesn’t leave, is so completely unfinished with him that it feels like an ache in her belly. Instead she asks him again, her voice so soft and delicate, “Can you still feel me here?” She reaches down to touch the water.
The heaviness that I hold in my heart belongs to gravity.
Dovev x Luster
@[Maugrim]