06-20-2017, 07:57 PM
you can have my isolation,
you can have the hate that it brings.
you can have the hate that it brings.
”I think that you are underestimating who you are speaking to,” he utters beneath his breath – barely a snarl, his upper lip curled, as the heat of the simmering fire within him stirs on the surface, just beneath the scarring that traces the hardened muscle and bone of his body. The searing crimson of his gaze does not waver, nor does it shy away from her steady, defiant stare – if anything, he is drawn closer to her, closing the space left between them – which was already very little. ”I could slough your skin off and leave you here to die a slow and painful death; it would take no time at all.”
His breath is warm across her cheek, and hers is against his own, taking in the furrowed ridge of her stubborn brow – the indignation laced with each carefully uttered syllable, but he is far beyond caring for any political demeanor. She has carelessly ignored the boundary line of the volcanic island, reckless and foolish. A childlike wistfulness had led her into his grasp, and there was no certainty that he was not dangerous – that the fire inside of him would not take hold; take her for his own. She had no understanding of him, of the territory she had crossed into. She had no knowledge of the darkness that had already begun to creep into his heart; taking hold of the one delicate heartstrings and encasing them in poison.
He would make certain that she might think twice next time.
Quietly, the girth of his body presses past her (the scalding heat of his body brushing across her delicate, multicolored peacock feathers – almost hot enough to singe - almost). Still, his burning eyes bore into her, tracing the hardened line of muscle beneath her tense shoulders, his breath brushing across her withers. ”Aurora, you could find yourself in a very dangerous predicament, crossing into boundaries that are not your own, so recklessly. I owe you nothing, and certainly no manners, when you have shown me no respect.”
”Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn’t make an example out of you.”
His breath is warm across her cheek, and hers is against his own, taking in the furrowed ridge of her stubborn brow – the indignation laced with each carefully uttered syllable, but he is far beyond caring for any political demeanor. She has carelessly ignored the boundary line of the volcanic island, reckless and foolish. A childlike wistfulness had led her into his grasp, and there was no certainty that he was not dangerous – that the fire inside of him would not take hold; take her for his own. She had no understanding of him, of the territory she had crossed into. She had no knowledge of the darkness that had already begun to creep into his heart; taking hold of the one delicate heartstrings and encasing them in poison.
He would make certain that she might think twice next time.
Quietly, the girth of his body presses past her (the scalding heat of his body brushing across her delicate, multicolored peacock feathers – almost hot enough to singe - almost). Still, his burning eyes bore into her, tracing the hardened line of muscle beneath her tense shoulders, his breath brushing across her withers. ”Aurora, you could find yourself in a very dangerous predicament, crossing into boundaries that are not your own, so recklessly. I owe you nothing, and certainly no manners, when you have shown me no respect.”
”Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn’t make an example out of you.”
you can have my absence of faith,
you can have my everything.
you can have my everything.
OFFSPRING