we scream our very souls free
There is an almost forbidden thrill in bringing him here. A delicious secrecy in the moment that delight’s Haunt’s every last sense. In showing Misfit this place that only the shadow could bring him to. That would forever be theirs and theirs alone. A perfect backdrop to the tantalizing wonders they had, to this point, only been teasing and toying with.
Cool, shadow-black skin presses so easily against dusky gray, almost natural in it’s deviance. Yellow eyes gleam with such wicked delight that there could be no question as to the thoughts tumbling through the dark creature’s mind. Haunt claims Misfit with touch and taste as much as Misfit had claimed the unusual creature with his words. The claim might not offer monogamy, but it is binding nonetheless. Eternal, in all the ways that matter.
Haunt’s tongue trails over blue and gray, tasting the earthy tones of Taiga’s air, the damp mustiness of underground stone, and a masculinity all Misfit’s own. It’s a teasing touch, one designed to provoke. To promise.
With a small trill of almost-laughter, Haunt pulls abruptly back, gleaming eyes fixing on their delicious companion. “This is anywhere we want it to be,” the creature murmurs huskily, eyes bright with wicked humor. Another step back. And another, until the splash of water breaks the silence and wets one invisible hoof. Disembodied eyes tease, a less than subtle invitation. “This is my gift. To you.” A whisper and a promise. “Only you.”
