that love is like a star
Shock and defiance flash across Hysperia’s face with nearly the same intensity as the lightning flashing across Gale. She draws her head up high as he purposely steps away, all semblance of innocence wiped clean. A sharpness stark in contrast to her once soft stare harshens the lines of her face.
A wicked grin splits Hysperia’s mouth when Gale turns back around, a wild in her swelling up to meet him.
There’s a danger and a power within the blue magician that Hysperia has never encountered before. She blinks, only taking a single second to process what he says. Cowering backward, she gasps—she sheds the tears Gale is looking for—but she doesn’t back away from him. Hysperia’s heart beats fiercely and what she feels is fear, though all the adrenaline only serves to excite her.
Could he take her life? Is she living in the abyss of seconds before death?
Lightning flashes as Hysperia demures, dropping her head in deference to the magician. When she looks up though—through a thick tangle of lashes and mane—her gaze is as violent as a blow to the head.
“Why are you trying to frighten me?” she whispers. She secretly hopes he tries again, hopes he tries to harm her the way his magic hints. She imagines growing wolf’s fangs and tearing this God’s throat from his body, wonders how hot the Divine’s blood must flow. Hysperia bites back a laugh as she adds,
“Are you unwell?”
A wicked grin splits Hysperia’s mouth when Gale turns back around, a wild in her swelling up to meet him.
There’s a danger and a power within the blue magician that Hysperia has never encountered before. She blinks, only taking a single second to process what he says. Cowering backward, she gasps—she sheds the tears Gale is looking for—but she doesn’t back away from him. Hysperia’s heart beats fiercely and what she feels is fear, though all the adrenaline only serves to excite her.
Could he take her life? Is she living in the abyss of seconds before death?
Lightning flashes as Hysperia demures, dropping her head in deference to the magician. When she looks up though—through a thick tangle of lashes and mane—her gaze is as violent as a blow to the head.
“Why are you trying to frighten me?” she whispers. She secretly hopes he tries again, hopes he tries to harm her the way his magic hints. She imagines growing wolf’s fangs and tearing this God’s throat from his body, wonders how hot the Divine’s blood must flow. Hysperia bites back a laugh as she adds,
“Are you unwell?”
hysperia
