09-26-2021, 09:23 PM
Dark
She has never considered what it would be like to die, never wondered what those final moments might feel like or how it would happen. If she had, she might’ve expected it to come at time’s hand. To have lived long and well, to die surrounded by family who loved her very much. It is likely both of her parents' faults. A mercenary for a father who wore violence not like armor as this poseidon does, but as a cleansing blade. If he knew she were here with a man like this one, Dovev would either kill him or be drowned beside his daughter. If Luster were here, then this poseidon would be the only one drowned.
But there is only Dark in this moment, only mottled blue and white, only sad eyes a shade of brown so light and warm they might be dyed with honey. And it is so hard to believe this violence in him, in the way the water writhes and churns, the way it wraps around her legs like fingers that threaten to pull her under. He is exactly the thing she was trying to find, exactly the wild and the ruin that her mother had allowed her to believe led to romance, led to love, led to this feeling of girlish hope fluttering wingless inside her chest.
“I don’t understand.” She admits, and that confusion on her delicate blue face is so gentle and so genuine, so unsure because he wants her to die and all she wants is to know him, to know his violence. To feel his teeth pressed against her throat and his lips over the white roaning patterns of her neck. “What good am I to you if I am dead?” Eyes dark like deep forests cast beneath the glow of starlight, wide and silent and aching.
He is gone then, from view at least, but she has the sense to realize he, much like the water that pulls at her now, is everywhere. She feels suddenly caught in a gravity she cannot explain, bound between the dullness of life and this thrill of death. But she is not ready to die, not ready to give up without knowing all there is for her in this world. “I can’t die yet.” She tells him, and her gentle voice is something made raw and aching by the way he clutches at her, by the way he crushes her into him.
Because that is what this is, isn’t it? If he is the water, then it is to him she is being pulled.
“I’ll go with you anywhere.” A promise, worlds bolder than the girl who speaks it, who whispers past a throat being crushed by someone who makes her feel, at once, alive. “But you’ll have to kill me later instead.” And then she does the thing she should not, makes the choice that would destroy both of her parents if only they knew, if only they were here to see what their ruined love had made her into.
She surrenders. With one last breath she releases her hold on the armor, letting the water crush against her skin and pull her under. Pull her closer to him.
But there is only Dark in this moment, only mottled blue and white, only sad eyes a shade of brown so light and warm they might be dyed with honey. And it is so hard to believe this violence in him, in the way the water writhes and churns, the way it wraps around her legs like fingers that threaten to pull her under. He is exactly the thing she was trying to find, exactly the wild and the ruin that her mother had allowed her to believe led to romance, led to love, led to this feeling of girlish hope fluttering wingless inside her chest.
“I don’t understand.” She admits, and that confusion on her delicate blue face is so gentle and so genuine, so unsure because he wants her to die and all she wants is to know him, to know his violence. To feel his teeth pressed against her throat and his lips over the white roaning patterns of her neck. “What good am I to you if I am dead?” Eyes dark like deep forests cast beneath the glow of starlight, wide and silent and aching.
He is gone then, from view at least, but she has the sense to realize he, much like the water that pulls at her now, is everywhere. She feels suddenly caught in a gravity she cannot explain, bound between the dullness of life and this thrill of death. But she is not ready to die, not ready to give up without knowing all there is for her in this world. “I can’t die yet.” She tells him, and her gentle voice is something made raw and aching by the way he clutches at her, by the way he crushes her into him.
Because that is what this is, isn’t it? If he is the water, then it is to him she is being pulled.
“I’ll go with you anywhere.” A promise, worlds bolder than the girl who speaks it, who whispers past a throat being crushed by someone who makes her feel, at once, alive. “But you’ll have to kill me later instead.” And then she does the thing she should not, makes the choice that would destroy both of her parents if only they knew, if only they were here to see what their ruined love had made her into.
She surrenders. With one last breath she releases her hold on the armor, letting the water crush against her skin and pull her under. Pull her closer to him.
The heaviness that I hold in my heart belongs to gravity.
Dovev x Luster
@Maugrim