Tibs

Azriel's lips quirk, and that's all it takes to have your limbs unsticking.

You eagerly pad forward, walking up to him, hands moving to your hips then wrapping round the base of your spine. Your own hands land on his broad shoulders as you slide into his lap, legs parting either side of his thighs. You press into his warmth, nestling deeper into the firm strength of him, nosing at his throat.

Azriel's large hand strokes your hair, soothingly possessive, tucking you away.

“Cass,” you scold, leaning back into him, “I need to get to work.” He stops, and you hear him sniff. He goes silent for a moment, then steps back as a sneeze erupts from him. You double over as you practically laugh your socks off, watching as the powerfully built male is felled by your garden. “And that is why you should let me. I need to pull the wild flowers from the grass,” your gaze shifts to the main area of your garden, the floor’s a patchwork of moss and grass as it’s softer; spongier.

You’d been anticipating the lack of light, so it wasn’t much of a bother. The scent was damp, but nothing putrid. It was the weight that had caught you off guard. The bizarre heaviness that pressed down upon your shoulders with every step forward, as if attempting to drive you off-course.

Hours have passed since you last saw the wolves, yet they feel worlds away. Separated by the barrier of consciousness, left entirely to yourself. Confined to solitude. Spend your time counting cocoa coloured conkers, though they’re few and far between.

A large fox peers from between the trees, snow-soft paws prowling silently as he slowly stalks forward, tall as a horse. Sharp, beady eyes glint with cunning, razor-sharp canines pronounced from his upper lip, snout protruding elegantly from his features. Distinctly vulpine. Six wire-like whiskers stick from his nose, sleek and gracious.

“You eat humans?” The tremble in your voice is prominent, and you’re surprised you don’t stutter with the fear that’s thrumming along with your heartbeat. “Among other things,” he drawls, inhaling your scent as you try not to move. Your breath catches as he opens his mouth over your throat, a whimper working it’s was from your own as terror climbs higher. A quiet squeak leaves you as his tongue swipes out, hot and wet, dragging over your skin as he tastes you.

You’re lying on the circular mattress, darkness shrouding the surrounding room, lit only by candles. The milky wax melts to the floor, moving in circles until it forms a tight ring around the mattress. Then, the streams start looking toward your bed, rolling beneath you to inevitably join.

He's sat besides the entrance, just to your right, arms locked around his knees, keeping them flush to his chest. He looks up in shock as he notices the moonlight streaming through into the room. The silver catches on the wet paths gracing his angular features, cutting clear trails over his cheekbones.

The sun is beginning to set, sending rich goldens and ambers spilling across the skyline, clouds creating buttery waterfalls of draining starlight cascading down onto the city. The warm whiskey of the fading light urges you higher, to bathe in the glow until heat saturates your skin, leaving you glowing with pearly incandescence.

Your brow furrows as you attempt to move your lower body. Unresponsive. Your eyes flutter open, managing to keep them apart to begin adjusting to the darkness. Your vision is limited, your face pressing against the mattress, but you’re able to make out a dark, wood bed frame, complete with walls that shift from grey to black. A towering figure wreathed in shadow stands at your side.

Your whole body recoils as his hand dips between your thighs, thumb running over your heat, dipping into the slickness that’s gathered in defence. “Look at you,” he groans softly, “so wet.” His other hand squeezes the flesh of your inner thigh appreciatively, “such a good little thing for me.”

You work in silence, save for the occasional request for Azriel to shift his wings to different positions, which he follows exceptionally. There are a few times your tape doesn’t span long enough; you have to press the marking fabric against his skin to note where to restart. Each time you give him a heads up along with a free invitation to veto at any time. He just nods along with your requests, indulging your curiosity each time until you’ve completed your measurements.

A flash of white causes you to come to an abrupt halt, backtracking a few steps to peer through the large expanse of glass, the shop name typed out in bold letters across the pane. Contained within the front display are three dresses: pale yellow, white and pale orange, from left to right. Each is held upon a female mannequin torso, the fabric swishing as customers pass by in the background.

The centre dress. It's lovely. The stitching, the length...the fabric looks like it wouldn't itch, either.

The summer breeze played with the hem of your dress, lifting the edges as the light wind wrapped around your shoulders, toying with your loose hairs.

This was how you liked it, a smooth back and forth between flirtation and friendship, the occasional joke sending laughter roaring from you, the occasional flirt sending sparks spitting in your stomach. It was easy, like this, between the two of you. Small boosters of happiness to keep the stress of life at bay.

At your words, a small rush of humiliation coursed through him, the kind only you could make feel good. Deserved. He swallowed, fisting his hands tighter in the sheets. How badly he wanted to tangle his them in your hair and shove you down on his cock. Make you drool. Choke.

Outside came the rumble of thunder, and peering through the large panel windows on either side of the dark, wooden door, you could see the already heavy rain become torrential. “Looks like we dodged the worst of it,” you tried to pick out the silver lining, however you had found yourself there.

A small droplet of guilt slid down your back as you marked his sodden hair, a clear line in his clothes where the umbrella hadn’t covered. You had a matching mark on your left shoulder. “And you’re sure it’s no problem me being here?” You knew you were repeating yourself, but you didn’t even really know him that well. All you were going on were the couple of late nights a week you’d been spending together at the library. He’d seemed fine…

The sun peeked in through the drawn-to curtains, finding a way to thread into your shared time again and notify you that the day had begun.

You yelped, squeezing your eyes shut as laughter bubbled from within. His mouth pressed hot kisses up the side of your throat, pausing to nose the underside of your jaw. The ticklish sensation made it impossible not to smile. You shifted in his grip, enough to turn and face him, back pressing against the counter as you tried to glare up at the male, but he was already grinning down at you.

Judging from the light, it seemed to be in the liminal period between midnight and dawn, when the partygoers had returned to their homes, but the early birds hadn’t yet risen. It was peaceful. And good thing too, because he knew his scent would betray his fear.

He followed you as you made your way to the kitchen, near the back of the house, golden light streaming from the gap beneath the door. When you opened it, he was met with a room brimming with candle-light and his brow furrowed as you lead him to the table. “How long have you been awake?” He murmured, taking a seat as he watched you move to the kettle. He noticed a fresh cup was already made, hinting you’d been awake for some time.

I don’t think she is gentle and passive at all. It feels like she has a shard of ice pressed beneath my heart, ready to rip into the tender muscle when I am inevitably disappointed. For me, she is a bloodthirsty terror, constantly taunting my fragile heart with strange illusions of power. They deceive me into thinking I am capable of overthrowing something great too, of overcoming that phantom pain that sucks at my soul from the inside out, like a hollow pull tearing through my chest.

It’s happening now. I can feel my chest growing heavy and my eyes are aching. My skin feels hot and dry on the surface and I can feel all the teeth in my mouth, aware of how the soles of my feet aren’t touching the floor and feel itchy and uncomfortable.