#bone temple

i actually learned a bit from this one! ive been trying to get more texture in my art and i think doing this study helped. also i loved this movie!

They came like a summer storm: Swiftly, violently, and without warning.

You and several of the other women had been in the middle of quilting at the time. Adding patches from shirts too shredded to be mended, each square of cotton, rayon, and polyester sewn into the grand design with love and care.

At first, those whoops and hollers had barely registered. The world was a strange place, full of odd people. Just because those folks were too stupid to be quiet in a landscape full of infected didn't mean that it'd have to be your community's problem.

But then, those sounds had gotten closer. And closer. And closer still.

The men keeping watch fell to them first, the sounds of their falling bodies thudding in your head.

The rest of you were found, one group at a time. You and the other women found yourselves facing a young man, perhaps no older than eighteen, dressed in a black-and-white tracksuit and aiming a machete at you. Dead-eyed and monotonous, he ordered you to join the others. "There's someone ya gotta meet," he stated.

The lot of you—men, women, and children, adding up to about forty in total—were herded like sheep in the former gymnasium, now the community hall. The chairs had been pushed to the side, and the platform typically used for the council was now being employed by a single person.

One who didn't occupy space so much as dominate it.

Standing before you all was a man perhaps five or six years older than you, with tresses the color of spun gold spilling down to his shoulders and a plum-colored tracksuit hanging off his form. Rings gleamed on his fingers. Half a dozen gold chains shone around his neck, the most prominent of which was an upside-down cross resting right over his heart. A plastic tiara kept his hair out of his handsome face.

Because yes, he was handsome. A fine jaw, a slightly bulbous nose that gave his visage character, high cheekbones, and just a hint of beard a shade or so darker than his hair.

What drew you the most, however, were his eyes. Stormy-blue, large, and framed with pale lashes. There was glint to them that you'd only ever heard about. The kind that belonged to either the brilliant or the mad.

"Hello." He wasn't shouting, but his voice reached the farthest, dustiest corners of the chamber. "Allow me tae tell ye lot a story on this fine day."

And, just in case some of you didn't want to allow him that, two of his goons—they, too, were dressed in tracksuits and sported blond wigs, though the speaker's was the cleanest and of the finest quality—aimed hunting rifles at the crowd. Some of the children began to weep, hastily hushed by their parents. Couples and friends held hands. Some began to quietly pray.

You tried to keep your wits about you. Waited until you could come up with something. You weren't the strongest or fastest in your community. You didn't sport the greatest tally of slain infected, or brought home an entire stag or wagonful of supplies like some others had. You weren't a leader, a farmer, or a soldier. You pulled your weight, of course, but you were just... you. Part of the crowd. No more important than a single thread in a tapestry. But you did have a good brain. One that'd kept your child self alive for two whole years between your parents' deaths and the scouts of this community finding you. And now, you hoped it'd serve to help those around you as well.

"In the beginning, there was darkness," the man in purple began, "and in that darkness was Old Nick. He released His demons onto the World of Man, and the World of Man fell before them. His world became like the gutterin' candle flame. God did nothin', for he was invisible." Smirking, the man added, "Couldn't even punch his way out of a fuckin' paper bag anyway."

Reclaiming his more somber air, the man carried on. "And so, the World of Man became Old Nick's dominion, and His dominion was Hell." Meeting his followers' gaze, he tilted his head slightly. "Howzat?" "Howzat," they replied in unison.

"Then Old Nick did speak tae His favorite son, whose name was Jimmy Crystal," the man's glinting eyes gleamed even more, "and He said unto Jimmy," his voice soared like a hawk, "'you are now Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal, and you shall be my right hand, which shall be strong. You shall have seven Fingers, and each Finger shall be a claw, and you shall offer charity tae the World of Man. And for this, you alone shall be my heir! And your seven Fingers shall hold your crown!'"

He raised his bejeweled hands, as though carrying an invisible crown into the air. His expression was one of utter conviction, one that no amount of rational speeches could hope to undo.

Then, almost softly, he concluded his speech with, "Howzat?"

Once again, his followers—his Fingers—echoed, "Howzat," right back at him.

Your community shared nervous ganders. Silence lay taut and heavy upon the gymnasium. Smothering you all.

"I am Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal," the blond man stated. "Favored son of Old Nick. These are my Fingers. My Jimmies."

You gulped.

"We travel the land," Jimmy—you refused to give this man power by using his self-given title, even in your own head—explained. "We search for souls tae deliver tae my father." He hesitated, holding his hands out to your people. "And we offer you... charity."

Instantly, you knew that that wasn't good. And when the other Jimmies slipped on their masks—fashioned from old shoes and scraps of cloth, with human teeth sewn right where the mouths would be—you got all the confirmation you needed.

"Jimmies," Jimmy referred to his disciples, "today's charitable act shall be: The removal of the shirt."

Panic rippled throughout the crowd. One of the men tried to make a run for it and got a bullet in his brain for his trouble. Others made it to the doors, only to find them already bolted. The Jimmies, knowing that you were trapped, calmly went about selecting their first batch of victims. Your people fought, struggled, and begged, but a few blows to the head made them complacent. Jimmy remained on the platform, watching the display with something close to pleasure.

Fuck. You had to do something. You weren't sure what, but anything was better than nothing.

Your people were led to the stage, where—for the first time—you noticed ropes hanging from the rafters like intestines in a butcher shop window.

Your people would be tied up. Left defenseless. Stripped. Skinned like fruit until...

You looked to the council. The closest thing your community had to leaders. They made all the final decisions, though everyone got a vote. They had power. Special privileges, like meat every day instead of just twice a week, cologne, perfume, and television that'd been set up by pre-Outbreak technicians. But instead of standing up, of speaking out, they were pushing themselves deeper into the crowd. Trying to make themselves unseen.

Anger surged within you, mixing with your anxiety. Your gaze snapped back to the platform, where two folks—Brittany, the kindergarten teacher, and Seamus, the community's very own Mr. Fix-It—were already bound, their arms forced above their heads. Their clothes were being sliced right off their bodies.

Emotion denotated within you.

"Stop!" you shouted, rushing forward. "Please, stop!"

The Jimmies froze, their eyes widening behind their masks. Jimmy straightened, a curious frown blooming on his face.

"Please," you did your best to keep your voice steady. "Please, don't do this. We're good people. We haven't done a thing to you lot. Don't hurt us, please."

"Oh, there's no such thing as 'good' or 'bad', petal," Jimmy chastised, his voice as dark and rich as barley honey. "Just people. Just souls. And Old Nick's hungry. Always cravin' fresh ones."

As your heart jackrabbited in your chest, you clasped your hands together. Looked pleadingly at the strange man. "Please," you begged. "Please, I... Let them go. I'll do anything."

Some of the Jimmies laughed at the display, but their leader didn't. He leaned forward, his eyes roving your form. From the laces on your mud-splashed boots to your wide, scared eyes. He looked like a wolf assessing a doe. Like a scientist examining something under a microscope.

For a silent, endless moment, there was nothing. Only you, him, and your plea.

Finally, Jimmy glanced up at the ceiling. Raised two fingers. Closed his eyes. "Father… Master… Dark Lord… are ye wit' us now?"

Nothing answered. And yet, he gave the tiniest nod. Smiled ever so slightly. "Good." Another brief pause, and then he nodded again. "Yes, Father." He dropped his hand, his smile widening as his gaze found yours. "Old Nick says that I am tae discuss the matter wit' ye privately." He glanced back at his Jimmies, his features rearranging themselves into regal formality. "The lot o' ye, yer not t'touch any o' these mewlin' souls 'til I return."

The Fingers looked stunned, even sharing a couple of looks, but in the end they replied with a simple, synchronized, "Yes, Sir Jimmy."

Jimmy reverted his gaze to you. Tilted his head towards the back entrance. You shadowed him out of the gymnasium, feeling the eyes of every member of your community on your back. Already, your shoulders ached from the burden you'd thrust upon them. If you succeeded, great, you'd prove to be stronger and more capable than you thought. But if you didn't...

You couldn't bear the thought.

Jimmy led you to a former classroom, now a storage room. Bows, arrows, homemade soaps, clothes pilfered from stores and abandoned homes, jars of pickled and preserved foods, spare shoelaces, even a few luxury items like toothpaste and deodorant... It was all here, carefully placed on shelves and surfaces. You were glad to see that nothing here had been taken, at least not so far. Your community was well-off, but all it'd take was one bad winter to change that.

Jimmy locked the door behind you. Then, he began to circle you like a jungle cat, his gleaming blue eyes doing more to flay you than his Fingers' knives ever could. "So," he purred, "ye'll do anythin' t'save yer people, eh? A real hero type, y'are."

You swallowed. "Not really," you replied. "Just doing what anyone would do." Even as you said it, you weren't sure your statement was applicable to Jimmy. He commanded his people, but you'd sensed no love for them in his stance. No real care. They were extensions of his will, of his person, right down to bearing his name and sporting wigs to look like him. They could be anybody under those clothes and fake hair, and it wouldn't change a thing for the man before you.

Jimmy chuckled. The sound was warm and even pleasant, yet it scraped against your ribs. He stopped pacing, facing you directly. He was only a couple of inches taller than you, but he may as well have been a giant. "I've been in Old Nick's service since the Fall, lass," he stated. "I've delivered plenty o' souls tae my father. Can't even properly recount 'em all. But I've never, ever met someone who did what ye just did. I'm floored, and I ain't so easily floored."

He cupped your chin with warm, calloused fingers. Firmly, but not roughly. His eyes were like blue stars as they locked with yours. "What's yer name, bonnie?"

Quietly, you told him.

Jimmy repeated it. Tasted it. "A pretty name for a pretty lady."

You wanted to duck your head, if only to hide your reddening cheeks. But you'd already begged him for mercy. Given him so much power. You didn't want to give him that little extra crumb.

Jimmy's thumb traced your chin with more softness than you'd have expected. "I think we can come tae an arrangement that'll leave the both o' us satisfied."

You tried not to gulp. "Um, okay...?"

Jimmy grinned, revealing crooked, yellow teeth. He took a step closer to you, the distance between you almost intimate. You caught a whiff of his spicy cologne. Despite everything, your heart threw itself against your ribs. "Be one wit' me." He whispered it, his breath warm against your cheek.

You blinked. "Huh?"

Jimmy giggled. "Yer too cute. Aye," he confirmed with a nod, still grinning, "lie with me. Lemme fuck ye, if ye wanna be crude about it. If ye do a good job, I'll bring ye back home wit' us while this place and everyone in it burns."

Your jaw dropped. "What kind of piss-poor arrangement is that?" you demanded. "I'm trying to save everyone, not let them fry!"

Jimmy laughed. "Yeah, that's only if ye do a good job. If ye do a really good job, I'll take me peeps wit' me, and we'll leave without havin' hurt a hair on anybody's head. We might ask for some food, given the long journey, but that's about it." He raised his fair brows at you. "Fair?"

You clenched and loosened your fists. Tried to overcome your own, stupid conflict about it. You should say yes right away, you knew. Jimmy was offering an ideal outcome here: Him and his fellow weirdos leaving, your home safe, with only some jangled nerves and a few heated cans of beans to act as the final price. And it wasn't like you were a virgin. You'd fooled around here and there.

Thing was, though... You'd always lain with people you liked. People you'd had an emotional bond with. The only emotions tying you to Jimmy were fear and anxiety, with some reluctant acknowledgement of his good looks added for spice. And even if you pushed aside your own discomfort, you weren't sure you could do a fine enough job for Jimmy to hold up his end of the bargain. You hadn't had a partner since last year, when you broke up with one of the hunters after he fell in love with another. You were out of practice.

But what choice did you really have?

You took a deep, cleansing breath. Closed your eyes, and then opened them again. "If you swear to leave and not hurt anybody," you started quietly, "I'll sleep with you."

Jimmy grinned. "There she is. My little sacrificial lamb." One hand cupped the base of your skull, the other coiled around your waist. Again, he was firm, but not rough.

Carefully, almost gently, he lay you on the floor. The linoleum bit you through your clothes, but you barely had time to register it as you watched him unzip his jacket and shrug it off. Underneath was a plain white shirt, which soon came off as well. His necklaces, however, stayed on. Gleaming even in the dim lighting.

Your throat tightened until you could hardly breathe. Jimmy's torso was nothing but lean muscle, his chest hairless and his skin littered with star-white scars. Despite yourself, you wanted to touch him. Wanted to trace those scars with your fingers until you knew them by heart. Wanted to feel his warm flesh under your palm.

You were snapped back to reality when Jimmy grabbed your hips and flipped you on your stomach. Not rough, but no-nonsense. Carefully but firmly, he maneuvered you on your hands and knees. He began to fumble with your trousers' buttons, his chest pressed against your back. You could feel his hardness already swelling against the back of your thighs.

He intended to take you from behind like a horse. Like a dog. Probably how he was used to doing it. But would it be good enough for him to hold up his end of the bargain?

Frankly, you had your doubts.

You didn't want it to be like this, either.

You caught his gaze over your shoulder. "Stop."

Jimmy, to his credit, stopped. Even drew his hands back altogether. The rings upon his fingers gleamed like fevered eyes. "What?" He sounded legitimately stunned. You just kept surprising him, it seemed.

Maintaining eye contact, you turned around and shifted into a kneeling position, mimicking Jimmy. "I'd like to see your face." You paused. "And I'd like you to see me."

Jimmy stared at you for a long time, shock slowly thawing into something else. Not just desire, though you could see that, too. Confusion, certainly. And something... more.

Slowly, he nodded. A concession.

Feeling like you were wandering into a forest without a map, you took his shoulders. Your thumbs rubbed soothing circles into the warm skin. Maintaining eye contact, you compelled him to lie down for you.

You were to be a sacrifice. That was fine. For your people, you'd do it. But you'd do it your way.

You covered his body with yours, hands planted on either side of his head. Bent down enough to count his eyelashes. He watched you the entire time, quizzical and almost afraid. Like you were some beautiful spider crawling on his hand. A spider that may or may not be venomous.

"May I kiss you?" your voice was as soft as old silk.

Jimmy's throat worked. "Yer an insolent lil' lamb, ain'tcha?"

You shrugged, never looking away from him.

Finally, he spoke. "Not... not on the mouth."

Of course not. That would've been intimate.

Nodding, you whispered, "I can work with that." You pressed your lips to his whiskered cheek. Then, his jaw. His pulse point came next, and you were pleased to find it thrumming against your mouth. You worked your way down to his collarbone, his chest, and his stomach, which quivered under your touch. All the while, your hands explored. Ran up and down his arms, admiring the muscles they found there. Traced the outline of his ribs and the sharp angles of his hips.

You stopped at his trousers. Looked up at him.

Jimmy nodded stiffly. Trying to appear firm and authoritative but looking rather desperate instead.

You gave his hip one last kiss before undoing the strings of his trousers. Carefully, you tugged them down to his ankles. His erection sprang free, thick and veiny and already damp with precum.

You paused, taking a moment to see what you had to work with. He was big, but not so much that you worried about it fitting. Flushed red, almost purple at the head, and nestled in a tuft of dark gold hair. It twitched in the cool air, and his strong thighs trembled.

You found yourself caressing one of those thighs. Trying to reassure him. "Ready?"

Jimmy's jaw tightened, though his eyes were still large and doe-like. "O'course I am."

You inclined your head. Letting him believe you bought the front he was putting on. "Just checking." Then, you took him in your mouth.

"Oooh, fuck," Jimmy breathed. "Ye fit me like a glove." He began rocking his hips, slowly and measuredly. You placed a hand on his stomach. Not to stop him from moving, but to make this a bit more... personal, you supposed.

You could feel his muscles tensing and loosening beneath your fingers. Could feel the skin getting warmer.

You worked your tongue around the tip, tracing the vein running along the side, as you bobbed your head.

"Just like that," Jimmy gasped. His hips accelerated with every thrust, his moans getting louder by the second. You kept up the pace, if only to avoid him completely cutting off your air supply.

That, and... hearing him moan and whimper like that was more arousing than it should've been.

His hands found your hair then. You winced in anticipation. But he didn't pull it. Didn't twist it. Didn't push you down farther. He just... kept his hands there, gently carded amid your locks.

You supposed it made sense. Why take the reins if he was already getting what he wanted?

Even so, the gesture felt... nice. Less from a psycho who'd invaded your home with the intent of killing your loved ones and more from... a lover.

God. You hadn't been expecting much today. Certainly not this.

Jimmy's thrusts grew quicker. Sharper. Every sound wrangled from his throat grew more desperate. You could feel him pulsing in your mouth, getting ready to erupt. But just as you were steeling yourself for that inevitability, he suddenly patted your head. "Stop," he gasped. "Stop."

You pulled off immediately, wiping your dribbling mouth. "Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No," Jimmy shook his head. "Ye were perfect. A dream."

You glanced away, hoping your cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"But if ye don't mind, bonnie," he continued, "I'd like tae return the favor. That, and sample that lil' cunnie o' yers."

He tried to sound casual about it, as though describing what he'd like for lunch or do that evening by way of leisure. But he looked nothing short of wrecked. Desperate. Like a man lost in the desert, finally sighting a glass of water. Despite everything, you found it... kind of cute.

You nodded, trying to look demure. "Of course. Whatever you want." Hesitating, you added, "You are Old Nick's son, after all."

"Aye," Jimmy surprised you by reaching out and caressing your cheek, "and what a gift He sent me."

Your heart skipped a beat.

He swallowed hard enough for you to hear his throat click. "Lie down for me?"

A request, not a command.

You nodded, unbuttoning your trousers at last and tugging them down. Then, deciding you'd rather match him in nakedness, you pulled off your shirt as well. Trying not to preen at Jimmy's stunned expression, you shed your bra as you lay down. The linoleum floor was even colder without your thin shield of cotton, but you ignored the discomfort.

Jimmy settled in the cradle of your hips, breathing deep. "Oh, I knew I smelled somethin' sweet." He nuzzled your thigh, his eyes the intense blue of a blowtorch. "Y'smell divine, petal. Y'smell like nectar. A honey the bees could only dream o' producin'." He inched a bit closer, but not all the way. "May I taste ye?"

Slowly, you nodded. Your heart hammered with a dozen different emotions. And not a single one of them was fear. Not anymore.

Grinning, Jimmy hiked both of your legs over his shoulders. "Eyes on me, lil' lamb," he purred. "Ye wanted t'see me, and I wanna make it worth yer while."

You lifted your head. Watching.

Without further ado, Jimmy dove in. His necklaces clattered on the floor. Electricity buzzed through your form as his mouth encased you. His nose rubbed against your clit while his tongue twisted at your folds with the dexterity of an eel. You could hear him moan into you, tasting every inch of your entrance. His tongue pushed through the threshold, lapping up all the juices you had to offer.

You were moaning before you could stop yourself, resisting the urge to throw your head back and succumb to the pleasure. Instead, you kept your eyes on Jimmy. His eyes were closed, his expression ecstatic. As though, by pleasing you, he was gratifying you both.

You tangled your hands in his hair, surprised by how soft it was. You didn't pull. Didn't twist. Just carded your hands in those golden locks. Sharing the moment with him. Just like he'd done with you.

One of Jimmy's hands let go of your thigh, reaching up to cover your hand. A strangely intimate gesture.

He rubbed his nose against your clit with a bit more insistence, his tongue snaking faster into your tunnel.

Pleasure broiled within you, locking your entire body into a knot. You could see your thighs starting to tremble against his shoulders. Feel your breath quickening.

Jimmy panted against your entrance, parting just long enough to say, "That's it, lamb. Come for me. I wanna taste yer pleasure."

That was all you needed. Your climax blinded you. Hot. Intense. Exhilarating.

Jimmy drank all that you had to offer, licking it up as though it were precious sustenance. When he finally sat up, the lower half of his face was gleaming with your juices. His cheeks were rosy, his pupils were blown, and his swollen lips were stretched into a drunkard's smile. "I want ye tae taste yerself," he rasped, gliding a finger up your slit before bringing it to your face. "Here. Taste this delicacy."

You obeyed, curious at what you sampled. You tasted tangy and warm. Then, meeting his gaze, you offered a saucy smile as you licked your lips.

Jimmy groaned at the sight, giving himself a few pumps. "See what ye do t'me, dove?"

"Yes." Letting the saucy smile soften on your lips, you shifted on the floor. Tried to settle in as comfortable a position as you could. "I'm ready for you."

Jimmy grinned. "And I'm ready f'ye, love."

Love?

Jimmy lined himself up, but hesitated. Looked back at your face.

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile before you realized you'd done it.

Jimmy pushed inside. Slowly. Almost reverently.

The stretch of him made you gasp, your arms instinctively wrapping around his sides. It felt too much like a lover's embrace, but in that moment you didn't care. You needed an anchor.

Jimmy's forehead dropped to yours, his entire body trembling as he sank into you. His golden chains brushed against your collarbones, his upside-down cross resting lightly on your sternum. They were warm from his skin, and surely would grow warmer still.

"Fuck—tight—so good," he gasped, sounding as overwhelmed as you felt. "Holy shite..."

You chuckled at his struggle to form complete sentences, rubbing soothing circles along his spine.

Jimmy snickered alongside you even as he worked to catch his breath. All the while, he drove into you one inch at a time. Not quick. Not careless. Determined.

When he finally bottomed out, he didn't move. Just took uneven breaths, shuddering in your grasp. Your chests pressed together, your heartbeats in sync.

You tucked some hair behind Jimmy's ears. Revealing his raw, vulnerable expression. "You okay?"

"Yes." Hesitant, he asked, "Are... are ye?" As though he didn't have the right to ask.

You nodded, your fingers still lingering on his face.

For a beat, neither of you spoke nor moved. Just stayed there, locked in each other. Two insects trapped in amber. Unable to look away from one another.

You found yourself committing every detail of Jimmy's visage to memory. And maybe it was your imagination, but you had the sense that he was doing the same for yours. "Yer..." he worried his bottom lip, "... yer not what I expected."

You tilted your head. "Is that bad or good?"

Some of the tension left Jimmy's shoulders. "Good," he replied, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Very good." He shifted against you. "Ready?"

You nodded again, offering him a small smile.

Jimmy cupped the back of your head, ready to keep it from knocking against the cold, hard floor. A surprisingly thoughtful gesture. One that made you tighten your hold on him. Just a little bit.

Jimmy withdrew almost all the way. Slow. Trembling. Then, he thrust back in. His groan made your blood sing.

He withdrew and pushed back in again. And again. And again.

Deep. Steady. Savoring every move.

Every thrust struck you to your core. Drew moans from you like water from a well. And it wasn't long until Jimmy was making noises of his own. Ragged whines. Choked gasps. Little whimpers. Nothing like his bombastic sermon from earlier.

You liked this better. Much, much better.

You began to move with him. Jerk your hips to meet his. Nuzzle his neck. Coil an arm around his back. Find his hand and hold on tight.

After a beat, Jimmy wove your fingers together.

"Fuck," he panted, his every move full of want, "you’re so—fuck—warm—feel so good—my lamb—"

You coiled your legs around his waist. His hips snapped harder, his breath hitching near your ear.

"Say me name." Once again, a plea barely disguised as an order.

"Jimmy," you moaned.

He groaned hard. Thrust deeper.

You cried out. "Jimmy, fuck, don't stop—"

His forehead found yours again as he began to truly lose himself, hips stuttering and breath unraveling in a serenade of desperation. You could feel the hand cushioning the back of your head trembling.

"M'gonna come, me darlin'," his voice broke like sugar glass. “Do ye—d'ye want me tae—inside?”

You found yourself nodding. Enthusiastic. Eager. Overwhelmed with lust and another emotion you could neither name nor deny. "Yes," you whispered, your nose brushing against his. "Please, Jimmy. Inside."

Jimmy's breath caught. His whole body shuddered against yours. Every thrust was shorter, deeper, his control fraying like cheesecloth. "Come wit' me," he begged. "Please—come on, sweetheart—please, show me yer rapture—I need tae feel ye there wit' me, please—"

You were about to. You could feel it unfurling within you like a flower.

Just as it opened completely, you cupped Jimmy's cheek and pressed your lips to his. Gently. Sweetly. Without a second's hesitation, Jimmy kissed you back, his hand leaving the back of your skull to caress your jaw.

He tasted like you.

Like blood.

Like madness.

Like something you were starting to understand.

Your climax spread to the furthest corners of you, from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Warming you. Electrifying you. Making you see stars.

Jimmy came in the same breath. Moaning in your kiss, hips jerking as he filled you utterly. His body shuddered, his hand clutching yours so tightly it almost hurt.

You stayed like that for many minutes: Intertwined, bodies trembling from the aftershocks, holding hands, and your lips still pressed together. Jimmy softened inside you, but he didn't pull out.

His heartbeat hammered against your ribs. Your thighs quivered around his hips. Your mouths remained locked together, fitting as perfectly as puzzle pieces.

Jimmy had asked you to be one with him, and it felt like you really, truly had.

You weren't sure who pulled away first. Either way, your faces remained in each other's orbit.

You took in the new color of his lips, a reddish pink. The light sheen of sweat on his face. The roses in his cheeks. The tangled halo of his hair, barely kept in check by his ears. The glossy black of his blown pupils, rimmed by the thinnest blue rings.

"You're beautiful."

Jimmy's eyes widened.

That was when you realized you'd spoken the words out loud. Biting back a wince, you added, "If that's okay to say."

Jimmy swallowed. Hard. Gave an almost timid nod. "It's okay." He stared at you for a long moment, something tender settling in his expression. He looked... open. Soft, even.

"Hey," you whispered, holding his cheek, "you okay?"

He leaned into your hand like he was starved for the touch. "Aye," he croaked. "Just... forgot t'breathe for a second there."

The joke made you smile, and he mirrored you before seemingly realizing something. He cocked his head, as though listening for a particular sound. "That's weird."

"What?" you asked softly.

"I can't... hear His voice, right now." Jimmy sounded stunned. "I mean, He doesn't talk tae me all the time, but He's never just... not here at all." He looked back down at you, laughing a bit. "Maybe He wanted t'give us a lil' privacy."

You chuckled. "Maybe." Your hand remained on his cheek, your thumb following the lines around his eye. "Sorry, I know you said no kissing on the mouth, but—"

He hushed you gently. "I liked it." A brief pause. "A lot." His fingers found your face again, tracing it softly.

You met his gaze, feeling something more than afterglow settling in your bones. Something small and fragile, but bright as starlight. And somehow, you could see the same feeling shimmering in those blue orbs.

You spotted the exact moment reality came crashing back to him. The sight was a painful one.

"Ye... Well." Jimmy cleared his throat, glancing away. Not out of callousness, but self-preservation. "I'd say ye did splendidly, petal. A deal's a deal. We'll leave. No charity required."

Jimmy dared to glance back at you. As though it might be his last chance to. The line in his throat tightened. "And nobody's gonna come botherin' ye and yers again." He spoke softly, yet fiercely. "Not demons. Not raiders. Not nobody. Me and me peeps'll make sure o' that."

A part of you rejoiced. Another felt only sorrow. "Well..." you mused, "... you don't have to go right now, do you?"

Jimmy blinked, thrown for a loop. "No, I s'posse not."

"Well, then," you squeezed his hand, "you're welcome to stay right here. With me. For a bit longer."

Something cracked in Jimmy's expression. Broke, and let some light in.