and if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones
‘cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs
There is something of a promise held in his soft voice. Maybe not a promise of forever, or even an extended period of time, but of escape. Of something gentle and easy. She has no way of knowing that his heart is hopelessly tied to another. She has no way of knowing that he is twisted around the mind readers finger, but it doesn’t matter. Perhaps she, like her mother, is destined to want that which she can’t have.
Perhaps she is cursed to love things from afar.
But he is close now, the warmth of him hovering over her, around her, and she closes her eyes for a second on a sigh as she slips into it, letting it rise within her chest. “I have never been give anything,” but that’s a lie and she knows it. Something like shame hits her, leaves her breathless. “That’s not true. I had a beautiful home when I was a child but I lost it. It didn’t last. Maybe it never can.”
She shakes her elegant head, the same delicate features of her mother shining through the serpent. She exhales slowly as his lips find the curve of her neck. Her breath hitches and then she feels a flush of something unfamiliar as he retreats. Her sage green eyes open slowly and she studies him, wondering at what made him jerk back, at the sudden, cold distance that opens up between them.
“We aren’t,” she agrees, her voice soft—too soft. “But we could be.” She frowns and looks down before looking back up beneath the curls of her forelock. “For tonight maybe.”
Enough time to make her forget this ache in her chest.
This jagged need to find acceptance in the curve of his body and the fever of his mouth. It is a dangerous, reckless thing that pushes her forward again, her fanged mouth finding the masculine angle of his jaw and lingering there. He smells sweet and she feels a tightening in her belly, something like relief to find this—an escape, an opportunity, a momentarily reprieve. “Please,” she whispers against him as she steps into his haloed presence once more. “I just need to forget. I need to not think tonight.”
adna
we're setting fire to our insides for fun
collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home
@[Ophanim]