05-02-2016, 06:31 PM
My brief rest doesn't last long. It feels like less than a heartbeat before the telltale lightning on my skin has me opening my eyes. Little monster's already watching the spot where Pazuzu materializes, making me wonder if he feels echoes of that electricity too. Just a brief caress of skin on skin, Pazuzu's lips brushing against me and I can feel the charge he leaves in his wake. I'm in no shape to respond to it; even if I weren't exhausted, I'm stretched out and all fucked up from shoving his spawn out of me, and my body's in no mood to play just now. Still, the contact is nice.
He attempts to dismiss my tiny beast as unremarkable, and my lips twitch briefly with amusement as he trails off and studies the boy. The intent expression on his face as he does whatever it is he's doing to try to read the little monster reminds me of the one on the boy's face when he was concentrating on learning how to work his legs, or prodding the squishy mess of placenta to see how it moved. So the kid's not just a miniscule, inverted, male baby me then. Oh, appearance-wise, he takes after me. That's for sure. Throw in a little of the red Pazuzu wore when we...mmm...but other than that and the eyes – huh. Pazuzu's eyes are black today. Interesting.
My beast stares back at his sire, and one corner of his mouth curves upward just a hair as Pazuzu probes him and reads nothing. “I rather doubt I'm responsible for that particular quirk of his,” I reply as Pazuzu's lips brush my cheek and his teeth follow, coaxing the skin he touches into lovely little tingles. He sinks his teeth into my neck and I bite him back just as hard without even thinking, not quite able to tell if the reflex is one of encouragement or reproach. Maybe a little of both, because if it was meant as foreplay his timing's pretty shitty. Sadly. A week ago, I would have been all over him. Or a few weeks from now, when my body's had a chance to recover. Right now, I've got nothing to give him. Or at least nothing he'd want, damn drug or no.
Tycho reaches out to sniff his sire in return, and his gaze sharpens on Pazuzu's lips, where a trace of my blood lingers. His little pink tongue darts out, catching a drop and drawing it into his mouth. Those dark eyes drift closed, his brow furrowing with concentration. When he opens them again, it is to stare up at me with greater intensity. He rises to his feet, meticulous in the placement of each little hoof, in the shifting of weight that allows him to stand.
Little demon indeed, he reaches out that tiny muzzle and laps the blood slowly trickling down my neck. I snort, my gaze shifting from him to Pazuzu. “Though that one I might have contributed to.” Oh, not exclusively. But I'd certainly share the credit. When he is done – whether he was cleaning the wound or just in it for the taste of blood on his lips, I couldn't say – he turns back to Pazuzu, still silent, those big dark eyes of his still watching. He gives Pazuzu the same thorough once-over he gave me, examining from top to bottom and back again before letting his gaze linger on the mark I left in return.
He attempts to dismiss my tiny beast as unremarkable, and my lips twitch briefly with amusement as he trails off and studies the boy. The intent expression on his face as he does whatever it is he's doing to try to read the little monster reminds me of the one on the boy's face when he was concentrating on learning how to work his legs, or prodding the squishy mess of placenta to see how it moved. So the kid's not just a miniscule, inverted, male baby me then. Oh, appearance-wise, he takes after me. That's for sure. Throw in a little of the red Pazuzu wore when we...mmm...but other than that and the eyes – huh. Pazuzu's eyes are black today. Interesting.
My beast stares back at his sire, and one corner of his mouth curves upward just a hair as Pazuzu probes him and reads nothing. “I rather doubt I'm responsible for that particular quirk of his,” I reply as Pazuzu's lips brush my cheek and his teeth follow, coaxing the skin he touches into lovely little tingles. He sinks his teeth into my neck and I bite him back just as hard without even thinking, not quite able to tell if the reflex is one of encouragement or reproach. Maybe a little of both, because if it was meant as foreplay his timing's pretty shitty. Sadly. A week ago, I would have been all over him. Or a few weeks from now, when my body's had a chance to recover. Right now, I've got nothing to give him. Or at least nothing he'd want, damn drug or no.
Tycho reaches out to sniff his sire in return, and his gaze sharpens on Pazuzu's lips, where a trace of my blood lingers. His little pink tongue darts out, catching a drop and drawing it into his mouth. Those dark eyes drift closed, his brow furrowing with concentration. When he opens them again, it is to stare up at me with greater intensity. He rises to his feet, meticulous in the placement of each little hoof, in the shifting of weight that allows him to stand.
Little demon indeed, he reaches out that tiny muzzle and laps the blood slowly trickling down my neck. I snort, my gaze shifting from him to Pazuzu. “Though that one I might have contributed to.” Oh, not exclusively. But I'd certainly share the credit. When he is done – whether he was cleaning the wound or just in it for the taste of blood on his lips, I couldn't say – he turns back to Pazuzu, still silent, those big dark eyes of his still watching. He gives Pazuzu the same thorough once-over he gave me, examining from top to bottom and back again before letting his gaze linger on the mark I left in return.
Daeryssa
of the restless heart