“Maybe you’ll show me one day.” She says nonchalantly as her golden eyes stop tracing the blackness of his skin to look back up at him. She thinks he would fit in the jungle but she doubts he would love it like she does. The rainforests could be noisy, the undergrowth hard to move through or a trap to get entangled in, and around every corner lurked dangerous things both big and small. It could also be deadly silent and she misses the days when it would rain and the smell of the earth would rise from the soil and the jungle was eerily quiet except for the steady thrumming beat of raindrops.
As she lowers her head and places her horn at his throat she knows she’s playing a dangerous game. Nothing about the blue and black beast before her screams that a cuddly teddy bear hides within a grizzly. As she looks up from beneath long lashes, she can see the way his lip twitches and as he leans into her she shifts her weight to better bare the sudden pressure against her horn. In a way they have trapped each other, she holds him with the sharp tip of her spiral as he holds her in a position of deference to him. If she was to move now it could be the death of him or the snap of her horn and she doesn’t want either of these things. So she simply stays still even as his irritated words growl towards her.
She should be afraid, she thinks.
But she’s not. Not the way she should be.
There’s a healthy thrill that pulses through her veins, a little fear mixed with a whole lot of something else. She is quiet as he tirades against her, as he insults her with his wickedness and she only flutters her lashes in response as the smile on her lips continues to linger. Deepens even. Maybe he was right about all of it. Perhaps she was a dreamer but she is not ashamed of that. As he describes a dark weight on her back, of bites along her buttery skin, she can’t help but shudder again but it is not revulsion that draws such a reaction. How vividly he paints a picture and how clearly she can see him doing those things to her. If she hadn't dreamed of it before she certainly would now.
As he begins to pull away she begins to lift her head and barely misses his eye as he comes closer. “Even monsters dream.” She counters quietly, her sharp molten gaze coming to find his own steely one. “Are nightmares not dreams?” He is unrelenting in his perception of himself as he finishes with “I am that kind of thing.” She finds herself shrugging slightly in response, her penetrating gaze still unwavering from his own. “Perhaps.” Is all she says. Maybe he was all those awful things (she doesn’t doubt that something terrible lurks beneath his cobalt skin) but a thought within her stirs and wonders if maybe he was more than all that, for better or worse.
As his muzzle roughly finds her bright skin she bites the inside of her lip as a breath catches in her throat, unprepared for the whisky tone of his voice as he rumbles her name in her curved ear. Her heart quickens it's beat as something unfamiliar flutters in her stomach. She can’t decide if she likes the way he says her name like this better then “little unicorn” but the way her muscles spasm beneath his breath betray that she likes it enough. A corner of her lip lifts a little higher as she murmurs softly, “No, I am not.” Lion had seemed a dutiful father and lover and King and he had turned out to be capable of terrible things. Even sweet Yanhua who she had followed to Taiga had changed in a worrisome way, muttering to himself in the dark. Nobody was ever what they seemed, she had learned. She thinks that he is no different as the little unicorn raises her skull slightly to boldly bring her muzzle to the exposed indigo of his neck. Blunt teeth place a sharp nip as she makes contact, relishing in the earthy tones of him as she breaths against his flesh.
“Neither are you.”
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Bardot![[Image: BQjeje-Bardot2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/T37nJTF6/BQjeje-Bardot2.png)