03-10-2017, 04:33 PM
Stillwater
He tore viciously into her, his bites ripping away flesh only to release it and attack another place on her neck. Bite and tear away, bite again. She had yet again awakened the malevolent one inside him, cut into his throat in a way that had made it feel threatened and now it would take her life for it. For making him bleed into his own water, marring the flawless skin that had just been pressed so hungrily and eagerly against her moments before. She would learn not to wrong him. And then she would die.
Her blood soaked the space between them, and when he finally breathed that water into him, finally almost tasted the sweet of her blood, the cold calculation of the predator vanished in an instant. His mouth and eyes shot wide and cleared back to their dark blue-gray, hazy and unfocused, seeing red only red. He jerked away, choking and spluttering, trying to expel any he may have taken into him. Like a recovering addict suddenly bathed in their drug, he panicked, throwing himself away from her, heaving and shaking as he lurched to the shore.
He couldn't drink her, not her. Karaugh, yes. Karaugh was easy, readily available, would be so easy to kill when the time came, when she was worthless to him. He would gladly replace the craving for Karaugh with the craving for another. But Djinni... no, not with Djinni. She couldn't be trusted. She would discover that dependency, hold it against him. Starve him, let him wither away. Feed him when it suited her, when she needed him for something, make him work for it. He didn't trust her, couldn't trust her. She would use it against him. She would be gone in the blink of an eye just when he needed it most.
His heart thundered, erratic and chaotic in his chest as he glanced back out to the water. Blood, so much blood. She should be dead. She would have been if he were whole, if he could escape this impossibly beautiful straight-jacket and rip her apart. If she didn't have her magic to save her. That was what he'd wanted. So desperately wanted. To be whole. To kill her.
His eyes lifted as she spoke, as though only just then remembering she was there. What do you want, she asked so softly, as if he hadn't just tried to tear her to tiny pieces one painful inch at a time. He jerked his eyes away, burned, locked them to the ground between his arms as he lay there trembling. He'd almost killed her. She should be dead. She would have been. What do you want, she repeated, and he could only shake his head silently. He wasn't answering that. Would never answer that.
Her magic was double-edged and sharp. Look what had happened the last time she asked him that. A cave, he'd said. And got a whole lot more than a damn cave. Her magic backfired on them, it created and stole away. Stole his self-control. If he answered her this time, honestly always honestly, he wasn't sure there was anything to stop him from killing her. Taking her, drinking her, really killing her.
He sprawled to his side with a tormented groan. Why do you do that, he whispered mournfully. He'd always had impeccable control, except that weird thing with Nayl, whatever the hell that was. But always so in control. Djinni seemed intent on breaking it, on unleashing things she couldn't possibly understand. She would never want to push him if she truly knew. Why must you taunt it, he said in a voice that perhaps only he could hear. Quiet. Defeated.
Why do you make me hurt you.
Her blood soaked the space between them, and when he finally breathed that water into him, finally almost tasted the sweet of her blood, the cold calculation of the predator vanished in an instant. His mouth and eyes shot wide and cleared back to their dark blue-gray, hazy and unfocused, seeing red only red. He jerked away, choking and spluttering, trying to expel any he may have taken into him. Like a recovering addict suddenly bathed in their drug, he panicked, throwing himself away from her, heaving and shaking as he lurched to the shore.
He couldn't drink her, not her. Karaugh, yes. Karaugh was easy, readily available, would be so easy to kill when the time came, when she was worthless to him. He would gladly replace the craving for Karaugh with the craving for another. But Djinni... no, not with Djinni. She couldn't be trusted. She would discover that dependency, hold it against him. Starve him, let him wither away. Feed him when it suited her, when she needed him for something, make him work for it. He didn't trust her, couldn't trust her. She would use it against him. She would be gone in the blink of an eye just when he needed it most.
His heart thundered, erratic and chaotic in his chest as he glanced back out to the water. Blood, so much blood. She should be dead. She would have been if he were whole, if he could escape this impossibly beautiful straight-jacket and rip her apart. If she didn't have her magic to save her. That was what he'd wanted. So desperately wanted. To be whole. To kill her.
His eyes lifted as she spoke, as though only just then remembering she was there. What do you want, she asked so softly, as if he hadn't just tried to tear her to tiny pieces one painful inch at a time. He jerked his eyes away, burned, locked them to the ground between his arms as he lay there trembling. He'd almost killed her. She should be dead. She would have been. What do you want, she repeated, and he could only shake his head silently. He wasn't answering that. Would never answer that.
Her magic was double-edged and sharp. Look what had happened the last time she asked him that. A cave, he'd said. And got a whole lot more than a damn cave. Her magic backfired on them, it created and stole away. Stole his self-control. If he answered her this time, honestly always honestly, he wasn't sure there was anything to stop him from killing her. Taking her, drinking her, really killing her.
He sprawled to his side with a tormented groan. Why do you do that, he whispered mournfully. He'd always had impeccable control, except that weird thing with Nayl, whatever the hell that was. But always so in control. Djinni seemed intent on breaking it, on unleashing things she couldn't possibly understand. She would never want to push him if she truly knew. Why must you taunt it, he said in a voice that perhaps only he could hear. Quiet. Defeated.
Why do you make me hurt you.
go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it