 I V A R promising everything i do not mean |
“Kylin” The way he says her name is at once an expletive and a prayer, a breathless exhalation that he nearly doesn’t recognize. “Kylin.” He murmurs again into the curve of her ear, “my Kylin.” Ivar’s poll slips under her chin, keeping her head above the turquoise water. “You want this,” the kelpie repeats, as though she might have forgotten her gasped ‘everything, anything’ from a moment ago. “You do.” It is enough to release him from his promise – this formation of a new vow – and he presses the want into her mind in a way he had once sworn to never do again. It is different now, the kelpie thinks, she had asked for it. “Don’t be afraid,” The words come before he ducks beneath her neck, a sinuous curve of muscled flesh that will support her chin as he rounds her left side. The kelpie has to spin to keep her head above water, but he is more agile in the water than any land creature has a right to be. “You’re mine,” Ivar reminds her as he pulls her withers underneath him and fits his hips to hers. “Mine forever.” This time he is slower, gentler. His mouth is tender, and each thrust of his hips is angled for her pleasure rather than his. Reading the beat of her heart, the sound of her gasps – it is second nature to him. There is no toying with her, there is no pain. The kelpie is not often a selfless lover, but Kylin deserves this. “You’re alright,” he tells her as they slip beneath the waves. The afternoon sun illuminates the clear green water; the seaworld of Ischia is more lovely even than the earthworld. He wants her to see it, to know what it feels like down beneath the surface, where Ivar really belongs. Words aren’t possible here, but he presses calmness into each touch of his mouth to her withers, painlessness into her sides where he holds her tightly. When she succumbs in, gasping for air that cannot come, Ivar shudders atop her. A child is conceived the instant water fills her lungs, but it will never grow in a mother that rests on the seafloor. It is sad; Ivar recognizes this on some level. Not sad enough for him to regret it, of course, and he presses a gentle kiss to her cheek as he moves away. She looks beautiful down here, with her pale mane drifting in the current. His forever now; just his. Ivar smiles, satisfied and content. |
I know my lies could not make you believe in my dark times, baby this is all I could be . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . |
@[Kylin]