She has those pretty eyes, dipped in the rawness of the pure black. I fed off of them with my own gaze, I felt myself supporting her as her weight was all over me - just like her wicked words. I never imagined her to be so fragile and exposed, my lips felt her; each bristle like that of fine feather. Fine black feathers. My night. My beautiful little black bird.
I had her perched in my beastly grasp as I yearned for more of her voice, her magnificently sweet contralto that would whistle so sweetly down my ear. Yes, I liked it this sweet.
There was something that erupted with her reactions to me; she was not afraid of my blackish fever; as I hoped since she was the one to place them there. I had not wanted these thoughts, I am currently battling them - I did not want to burn this down; we had just sparked. I just got her.
My black daubed fangs latched to her darling hair; without thinking of the delicate way I had touched it prior - this time was more aggressive, ignorant to a thing called ‘feeling’. I had the best of intentions, but I was unmindful of a little more pressure.
”Then have it.”
My simple words exposed where I wanted to take her, she wanted me and all I wanted was her.
With my grasp I had taken over her posture, my own covering her - our blackness enveloped into something that I had animalistic-ally conducted. The beast emerged, the urges took over.
In her current form - I could not resist; I wanted to create something. It was a sort of dark magic that arrested my mind as my fore-limbs carelessly coveted her shoulders - all I could think was - we would create something beautiful. Something powerful. We would create it in the dark black night.
V E | I S
If you see a light at the end – it’s just the sun in your eyes.