01-21-2018, 11:06 PM
Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
"That's what I thought, too." The void runs its fingers down our spines, and we shiver in unison. I hear his words as if they come from above me, a godly whisper. My own from all directions.
A refusal dances on his tongue: I am close enough to see it, to feel it. The part of me that knows we are already dreaming grasps at the loose threads of his mind and connects them as I see fit - he speaks, then, as the threads bond. He has already decided to follow.
My smile returns.
(I am not myself, here. The dreams change me - I - I shouldn't be shaping his mind this way. I shouldn't --)
"Yes," I murmur, star-glazed eyes now firmly fixed on his, which widen in his hunt for danger. In my mouth, my teeth lengthen. Fangs. "Our dreams."
He doesn't notice yet, however - his eyes are elsewhere, memories of a birthplace summoned to the conscious mind for appreciation. I allow his mind to wander without any interference, curious as to what shall become of us lest I leave our dreams to his liking. The silence between us is tangible - truly, really, the air becomes viscous, with sparks snapping here and there.
What do I have to do? He asks.
Trust me, I answer, without moving my lips. My voice resonates in his mind. Our peripheral vision becomes fuzzy - a dreamer cannot focus on all the details.
And... Dream.
Beneath us, sand rolls, the change subtle, though I notice before he does. When his eyes do bounce up from the granular earth, our surroundings are completely different - in every direction an endless stretch of desert sand with no discernible features - the sky so blue that it hurts to look at, though no sun is visible in its entirety. My fangs gleam - his golden coat shines.
Do you see how They follow? I ask. My lips are on him again, my tongue - running up his neck. At his ear, I do open my mouth to speak, and my sharpened teeth graze the thin membrane of his ear.
"Do you see?"
And from where I lead his eyes to gaze, It rises.
A refusal dances on his tongue: I am close enough to see it, to feel it. The part of me that knows we are already dreaming grasps at the loose threads of his mind and connects them as I see fit - he speaks, then, as the threads bond. He has already decided to follow.
My smile returns.
(I am not myself, here. The dreams change me - I - I shouldn't be shaping his mind this way. I shouldn't --)
"Yes," I murmur, star-glazed eyes now firmly fixed on his, which widen in his hunt for danger. In my mouth, my teeth lengthen. Fangs. "Our dreams."
He doesn't notice yet, however - his eyes are elsewhere, memories of a birthplace summoned to the conscious mind for appreciation. I allow his mind to wander without any interference, curious as to what shall become of us lest I leave our dreams to his liking. The silence between us is tangible - truly, really, the air becomes viscous, with sparks snapping here and there.
What do I have to do? He asks.
Trust me, I answer, without moving my lips. My voice resonates in his mind. Our peripheral vision becomes fuzzy - a dreamer cannot focus on all the details.
And... Dream.
Beneath us, sand rolls, the change subtle, though I notice before he does. When his eyes do bounce up from the granular earth, our surroundings are completely different - in every direction an endless stretch of desert sand with no discernible features - the sky so blue that it hurts to look at, though no sun is visible in its entirety. My fangs gleam - his golden coat shines.
Do you see how They follow? I ask. My lips are on him again, my tongue - running up his neck. At his ear, I do open my mouth to speak, and my sharpened teeth graze the thin membrane of his ear.
"Do you see?"
And from where I lead his eyes to gaze, It rises.
Kagerus
sweet nothing
@[rapt]
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
dreamweaver