no one really knows what the ocean hides
but you and I, bird, we’re gonna find out
Resistance.
It screams in his every move, his every breath. It reminds her of a deer she once killed as it thrashed against her grip, refusing to give up on its life so easily. In the end, Reia won. She always wins.
It comes to a sudden realization as to why her heart patters when his twists uncomfortably; he is prey, and she is the hunter. It’s an instinctual thrill that pours adrenaline through her veins. Greedily, she feeds off his leery manner and thrives on the way he looks at her and her expanding stomach. As desperate as she is to keep him close, to selfishly hold him, her expression never betrays her. Firelight ripples across her face, almost forebodingly, and maliciously glazes her pretty blue eyes for a fleeting moment. Eerily calm, she observes him and how he doesn’t reciprocate as she hoped.
”Pteron,” she says his name again, but this time sweeter as she edges too near for his comfort, breaking past his barrier just as she had in Taiga. ”Stop thinking it was a mistake. We were childhood friends. You’re the only one I’ve cared for,” how she manages to drip her voice in sweet nectar eludes even herself, ”It was only right. It was the next step.” But she assumes he will not so easily fall prey to this honeyed reassurance because his skin reeks of intimacy and sex, of someone else. Reia licks her lips, obscuring the possessive snarl that threatens to stretch dangerously across her mouth. Effectively masking it, her eyes look away.
A slow, calculated breath.
A deep sigh.
When she looks at him, it is with renewed confidence even as she glazes over the idea of love; she doesn’t understand it, doesn’t claim to hold it in her heart for him. Nonetheless, ”You’re mine, Pteron. You did this to me. This is our child, together. Never, ever call it a mistake,” emotion shudders through the pitch of her raising voice before she forces herself to take another breath, choking down the smoke that wants to billow from her nostrils. ”Do not leave me alone with our child,” she doesn’t add how it may affect their families, their politics, their lives. Easily, she thinks, she could ruin him and destroy any happiness that he thinks he can seek elsewhere.
Biting her lip, she inches another step closer. His body heat flares across her own and she briefly savors it as their eyes meet. ”Who are they?” Because there’s a stench of male and female clutched to his skin, because his heart reaches so casually to more than one. ”Tell me who they are.” The demand is bile on her tongue, bitterly spat at his feet. Part of her expects him to step away and to preserve their names, to leave her in the dark, but he would regret it.
She would ensure his regret.
and I'll be next to you when the lights go out
@[Pteron]