09-20-2017, 09:37 PM
She feels like maybe she's being dramatic. She feels embarrassed to lash out with the sore red emotions and wants to shrink away to nothing...
in fact, she can truthfully...
But he is moving, his lips and skin are touching her pain, the cool words soothing the heat of her fever. She folds easily against him and Epithet hates herself for that but she doesn't fight it. She chooses to bury herself the steel and mahogany draped stallion. She closes her eyes to the word and the wicked ways that brew just beyond them. Epithet listens to the drum of his heart, the vibrations in his chest as they rock against her like a slow tide.
"I don't want them to stop ever..." The mare liftsa ehr head away from the warmth of his embrace to look upward at him, studying him, reading him but she does not pull away. "I don't want them to stop either." She sounds like a child for a brief moment with a puckered lip and red rimmed eyes. The porcelain mare listens as he speaks of this Heartfire and Epithet is not spooked. She wishes in this moment that she had the magic she was born with still for a 'just in case' purpose but her abilities were nearly limitless and immortality made it pretty hard to die.
"I do care Wyrm and I don't know if I'll be able to ever stop." She binds herself in that moment to the stallion, she knows she has lost a part of herself to him but it is a willing offer, gladly given to this terribly complicated, beautifully scarred man. She knows she wants him and she would keep him always. "You are mine and I am yours." She speaks softly to him, her skin shifting to a lovely shade of pale lavender with dun, her eyes flickering to match as she feels the soft warm bloom of feeling for another begin in her chest, coloring her skin to reflect.
in fact, she can truthfully...
But he is moving, his lips and skin are touching her pain, the cool words soothing the heat of her fever. She folds easily against him and Epithet hates herself for that but she doesn't fight it. She chooses to bury herself the steel and mahogany draped stallion. She closes her eyes to the word and the wicked ways that brew just beyond them. Epithet listens to the drum of his heart, the vibrations in his chest as they rock against her like a slow tide.
"I don't want them to stop ever..." The mare liftsa ehr head away from the warmth of his embrace to look upward at him, studying him, reading him but she does not pull away. "I don't want them to stop either." She sounds like a child for a brief moment with a puckered lip and red rimmed eyes. The porcelain mare listens as he speaks of this Heartfire and Epithet is not spooked. She wishes in this moment that she had the magic she was born with still for a 'just in case' purpose but her abilities were nearly limitless and immortality made it pretty hard to die.
"I do care Wyrm and I don't know if I'll be able to ever stop." She binds herself in that moment to the stallion, she knows she has lost a part of herself to him but it is a willing offer, gladly given to this terribly complicated, beautifully scarred man. She knows she wants him and she would keep him always. "You are mine and I am yours." She speaks softly to him, her skin shifting to a lovely shade of pale lavender with dun, her eyes flickering to match as she feels the soft warm bloom of feeling for another begin in her chest, coloring her skin to reflect.
Epithet