Jul 19, 2024
"Je t'adore," he repeats nuzzling into her palm like a tired cat, letting out a relieved sigh. It has been too much and not far enough for so long, but now, nothing else matters. Nothing else ever did.
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"Je t'adore," he repeats nuzzling into her palm like a tired cat, letting out a relieved sigh. It has been too much and not far enough for so long, but now, nothing else matters. Nothing else ever did.
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Oh my sweet child,
would you still love so fiercely and obsessively, if you knew, that's what had driven your mother to such madness, that she died of a broken heart?
Slaps my elven wizard "This bad boy can fit a century of trauma into him."
The room was shrouded in a half lit red light. Satin or skin? Moving bodies or billowing curtains? In this light it all looked and felt the same, surreal and unimportant. The numbnes backed away for only few moments, feeling the hot lips on his neck trailing down, who was this? Who am I? Everything is too loud and a burn stings at the end of his fingers, the cigarette is still lit, taking a hit unsure what is mixed in with the tabaco. Hopefully something strong enough to take him under again.
For long moments it still doesn't, one or two pairs of hands and lips? Who cares? This is not working quickly enough. More, more, more is needed to take him out again.
"Take me," a whisper.
"We thought you only a tease," thousand echos bounce around the mind and walls.
"Now."
"No need to tell us twice," a sinister chuckle or chuckles?
Feeling everything and nothing for few more moments will be worth it, will it not? So many questions and no answers, he was too much of a coward to ask questions. That's why she left, too much of a cowar to ask, but here he doesn't have to. No questions behind the satin curtains, as he falls into his own shadow behind him wishing to never break the surface of this dark lake of numb pleasure.
He wants to give her what he feels like she deserves, the slow love of the romance books, the courtship and finding out things slowly together. But he's been running for so long, from everything to everything, feeling like there is never enough time, this is as slow as he can go. Just hoping, praying, she can catch up, and for some reason she always does.
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When the french fire wizard is being too hot in my brain:
The price of Cornelius's life is a great tragedy.
I just keep thinking about how he is the only one who has his father's eyes. The only other sibling would be the youngest, who is blind and her eyes are completely white.