Alabaster fingers coated in still drying blood hang long, like dead spider’s limbs, weary elbows resting at knees. Doesn’t know how much of cardinal pigment is hers or his own. Usually the flaking cinnabar would fill the mind with chaotic yearning, setting teeth to edge. Sparking nebulous desires like dying stars.
Now, there is only silence.
Lips that snarled, snapped, and bit with tenderly enunciated insults now lay silent.
The man realizes a moment after it is not the first time he has thought of her as such. Thankful for such a word, detesting how little it could approach the brutal and unyielding marvel that encompassed the too small form resting atop his bed sheets.
The dim streetlight that slips between the remains of a curtain so carelessly torn to bandage and clean sets pale cheeks ( two shades too pale, loss of blood painting her in pallid hues ) to a glow. Glistens on hair that spills haphazard across the pillows where white usually lay. Lips parted slightly, dry but still plump, edges turned downward with the relaxation of jaw and neck.
What a fair fox-wife to have slipped so far into this cavernous hall.
Need to check for a fever.
The easy lie whispers when body is already half through the motion. Hands weighted gently, so as not to disturb her slumber, as if she were glass and fragile he knew her now to be, and not to be.
How cruel for such divinity to be mortal. How wonderful for her to be here.
Blood blushed lips graze her temple, digits reverently setting right locks of hair. She stirs, and fear clamps like a grave cold hand on his throat, stills heart beat and breath both in desperate desire to see the moment left unbroken.
Perhaps hearing his soundless plea, she settles, a finger reaching above pillow brushing tender inlay of wrist in passing, sending electric pulses up curved spine, exploding bright before being smothered like a still-child. Unwanted. Such thoughts best strangled and abandoned on the roadside of what might have been.
Mattress sinks heavy at the knee, eases the shake in shoulder still inflamed from the night’s deed.
Just another moment to memorize the gentle smile that pulls at the edge of lips.
What are you dreaming of?
The monster has no right to know, no call nor claim over this creature of night and ruin and creation.
And yet… Glacial eyes trace the length of eyebrow, long line of cheek bone partially shadowed by his presence. It paints long shadowed lines along the graceful slope of chin and jaw. Like the cupping of a hand on such tender flesh.
This shadow is far more daring than the man in possession of it. The smile that pulls at the corners of such a carefully built facade is unbecoming. Gladdened only in the reminder that she cannot see it upon his lips.
Raises, arms threatening to give should selfish desire press them a moment longer. Returns to vigil at chair - hopes whatever dreams grace her thoughts are pleasant.
Very little after this will be.
Fire. It spreads out from where they meet. Burning away the shell. Destructive metamorphosis as febrile lips press against her own.
Hungry hands searching - Drowning, burning. Oxygen scalds throat and lungs - the smell of wood smoke in her hair.
Sweet incense of kingdoms led to ruin.
Perhaps this is merely another worthy conquest - does not care if she will slip out the door tomorrow never to return. This is a ghost that should let to linger.
A closet full of corpses, A heart full of wounds.
A hand finds pale fingertips, interweaves heated flesh with their own, biting nails into flesh. It is a call not left unanswered, tongue diving between lips to taste the tingling remains of lavender and the sparking edge of an essence altogether her own.
Tonight, the pale man does not crave the quiet.
Laughter - hands halfheartedly pushing at shoulders, flickering screen forgotten. Colorful light a meaningless haze as hands creep beneath the material of her shirt.
“ Luke! ” Ignores admonishing tone, just like the weak push at his shoulder. “ I’m trying to watch the movie,”
Lips leave ear, trail down exposed flesh of neck - hears deliciously sudden intake of breath, the shudder as skin turns to gooseflesh beneath these careful ministrations.
Then she’s gone, wrenching herself from his grasp - leaving a wanting void in her wake as she presses against the far end of the couch. A huff hunches her shoulders, but blue eyes are transfixed at the stuttering pulse at her throat.
“ I thought you wanted to watch this!”
She accuses, despite the flush of red across her cheeks, the taunting part of her lips. Devilish grin exposes white teeth between corpse-colored lips, “ I did -”
Single digit raising enough to stop her, grin widening by degrees. Slips closer, finger moving to trace underside of chin instead. Shifts, suddenly close enough to taste her racing breath.
“ You stopped watching, dear Frankie, nearly fifteen minutes ago.”
Voice lowers, dark whisper against skin. Leans body meaningfully against her own. Free hand grips arm of couch blocking any further attempt at escape.
“ I believe you desire something more…stimulating. “
Soft breath traces ear lobe before traveling downward, fingers quick to pick up their earlier ministrations. Slips beneath dark fabric, searching for a target, and grins against the blushing flesh of her skin when the sound of a half-choked moan reaches waiting ears.
“ I am nothing if not obliging.”
Teeth nip at throat, and hands that pushed away reappear, gripping with wild ferocity. Nails biting into flesh hitching his own breath. Clever thing unwilling to lay back.
She will match him measure for measure - longs for the challenge of her.
Greedy mouths find one another at the same moment, panting breaths intermingling as bodies meld into one another with what is becoming a practiced ease.
Later the pale man will not recall what the movie was, but remembers well the way she whispered her is name - breathless atop him. The way the colors of the screen painted her skin in a dizzying array of light, like some phantom siren sent to tempt this foolish heart off the cliff to a death awaiting on the rocks far below.
In that moment he would have jumped if she asked.
Anything to hear her say his name again. To hear her whisper in wanton desperation - body alight with sweat that makes her glimmer like an ever changing kaleidoscope of stars.
Patient. Kisses linger on flesh, grazing with a lazy mindlessness.
Deep breaths languid, tiptoeing sleep’s door. ( still remembers hitched breaths, watching her come undone beneath him )
Sweat chills back of neck, stirred by cool air fighting off the oppressive humidity of summer’s crest.
Fingers trace patterns, pressing lightly over muscles of torso, dip of ribs to swell of belly. A small hum her only response. Awe.
Stretched across sheets set askew in their carnal act of passion’s calling, hair spilled wild around her - he is humbled. Raw strength burns in drowsy eyes, a waiting pyre alight in still dilated pupils.
Something inside twists - like a knife that cold and bloody hands long ago memorized the shape of.
Pulse races, hands freeze, shoulders tense.
Not so far gone as to miss this sudden rigidity, question lingers on lips still swollen.
Suddenly dry mouth still tastes her, just as her scent has coated everything he calls his own.
Vulnerable eyes stare, no answer to unspoken questions on her hesitant breath. Sudden quiet sets her brow to furrowing, but when her hand reaches to touch heated cheek he can no longer weather the storm.
Standing - hands slip listless from skin.
Excuse thrown over shoulder like an afterthought, through the door before she can even answer.
Can taste the goodbye coming, but still clings to shoulders, lips flush. Yearning.
Like a desperate child once gripped to the hand of a mother who had long ago forgotten how to love.
Back when the universe was just a series of questions waiting for him to solve them.
No longer wants the answers.
Prayer on lips, broken kiss tingling tongue like a blow. Traces skin from cheek to chin, but cannot mask the tremor in once sure fingers.
Cannot finish, feels the words lodge in throat, too heavy to escape chilled lips. Steels for the sting, always could see a killing blow coming. Forces not to confess with lips what mouth cannot stay. Gifts instead a small sad smile, eyes shimmering with moisture in the hazy streetlight, silently prays she’ll just believe it to be a trick of the light.
“ Be careful on the way home. ”
Lips press to forehead, a parting.
She smiles, but there’s a question hidden in the crease of her lips. She’s swallowed so many of them lately - hopes she’ll forgive him for choking on just one more.
Perhaps her heart can handle the strain, Where his cannot.
She waves a hand awkwardly before pulling open the door and slipping inside. Possibly for the last time.
I love you, he says to the retreating trail lights. The words taste of bitterness and regret The million things never said - The quiet lies told in the dark.
Swallows the poison, just feel it one last time.
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