05-15-2016, 01:38 PM
± when you feel my heat, look into my eyes ±
Would he stand down wind of the firing squad? He would, over and over again until the essence of his very life spilled bright and red and burning against the forest floor. Until the final bullet struck him true and the last fleeting gasps of breath left his chest cavity. Times had drastically changed these days hadn’t they? In the midst of trying to change the Chamber somehow he felt he was changing himself as well, or She was changing him in that sly, practiced way she had. There was little doubt in his mind that the Kingdom Herself could do such things, bewitch the mind in some voodoo magic with fire and with blood. How it was truly done he wouldn’t know, to question that it was actually done, well, he daren’t- some things were better left to rest. She had spun her spell true, snaring him the sticky threads of spiderweb and tangled hearts, was that her thing then, matters of the heart?
The thought is not one to dwell on now, even as his own organ pounds heavily in his chest as they embrace. It was easy this way, even if stretching too far to one side left the strings taut and aching on the other end, even if he had yet utter words that would surely snap the tether he held to Dacia. How could he say it? What words would urge her understanding and acceptance and still give him dignity in place of shame? If the lines broke what would be left of him? Thinking it caused a shudder to wrack his body, a sharp stabbing pain against the confines of his chest, he couldn’t bare to lose them- any of them. Already he was too deep in the water to surface and the only happiness to be had was drowning surely, sinking into the swells of that ocean and being tossed about by the waves.
Even now he can feel how Malis sinks under the treachery of that deep blue, he himself feels swallowed whole by it all, blissful in the murky embrace. Their child, their girl edges into warmth and sleep and comfort, a bundle of bay and blue and wings and he can feel her gentle breathing against the hairs spilling down his legs. He was protection, he was love and he was safety and Gods help him if he ever fell short of that certainty. Heaven’s help the ones who lay threat to any of it because he would devour them quicker than any arm of the ocean.
Warmth settles over them, seeps gently from his true skin now, which was nothing like its potential inferno that wrestled deep within him. The beast was silent as he collected it and stored it away, it was not needed right now, so close to things he cherished and held snuggled against his skin. The deep blue woman pulls from him, breaking the circle to form questions on her wildflower lips, digging deep her words, as sharp as the spikes that stand out so blatantly against the ridge of her face. What would happen? What wouldn’t happen he thought, softening his own features as he dove deep within the eyes that reflected his own in so many ways. If she wanted promises he would give them, cover her in them until he was blue in the face and air ceased to spill from him. What he gave instead were truths, eyes begging though the words would never bend knee to call her back if she were to flee from him.
“If you stay I will feel whole again,” all because he would feel as whole as he felt now, because if she left he might shatter, just as the rock had when it fell in pieces from his skin. What would be left once he had been broken over and over again, what would the beast do, who would he be?
The thought is not one to dwell on now, even as his own organ pounds heavily in his chest as they embrace. It was easy this way, even if stretching too far to one side left the strings taut and aching on the other end, even if he had yet utter words that would surely snap the tether he held to Dacia. How could he say it? What words would urge her understanding and acceptance and still give him dignity in place of shame? If the lines broke what would be left of him? Thinking it caused a shudder to wrack his body, a sharp stabbing pain against the confines of his chest, he couldn’t bare to lose them- any of them. Already he was too deep in the water to surface and the only happiness to be had was drowning surely, sinking into the swells of that ocean and being tossed about by the waves.
Even now he can feel how Malis sinks under the treachery of that deep blue, he himself feels swallowed whole by it all, blissful in the murky embrace. Their child, their girl edges into warmth and sleep and comfort, a bundle of bay and blue and wings and he can feel her gentle breathing against the hairs spilling down his legs. He was protection, he was love and he was safety and Gods help him if he ever fell short of that certainty. Heaven’s help the ones who lay threat to any of it because he would devour them quicker than any arm of the ocean.
Warmth settles over them, seeps gently from his true skin now, which was nothing like its potential inferno that wrestled deep within him. The beast was silent as he collected it and stored it away, it was not needed right now, so close to things he cherished and held snuggled against his skin. The deep blue woman pulls from him, breaking the circle to form questions on her wildflower lips, digging deep her words, as sharp as the spikes that stand out so blatantly against the ridge of her face. What would happen? What wouldn’t happen he thought, softening his own features as he dove deep within the eyes that reflected his own in so many ways. If she wanted promises he would give them, cover her in them until he was blue in the face and air ceased to spill from him. What he gave instead were truths, eyes begging though the words would never bend knee to call her back if she were to flee from him.
“If you stay I will feel whole again,” all because he would feel as whole as he felt now, because if she left he might shatter, just as the rock had when it fell in pieces from his skin. What would be left once he had been broken over and over again, what would the beast do, who would he be?
KILLDARE
magma King of the Chamber
