@noatherics / ILLY: Illyana watches him yawn. and when the second one starts, she just ... reaches out and hooks a clawed finger around his fang, like he's a big cat.
ease drapes itself over him like a blanket, warm and soft. the faint draw of drowsiness tugged at him with gentle fingertips and licked at his ears with its temptation. it comes so easily to him now when ensconced in her presence. still, eyes rarely pry themselves from her and watch with [ ... ] tenderness. soft like silk, affection dances in the flecks of green obscured in the cheery brown within his gaze. they're so close now, mere inches apart, drifting closer and closer. he's caught —— seized in the brilliance of her orbit like a wayward comet and lingering there. drifting about aimless yet at peace with it all. before him sits his universe, his little star, dangerous yet warm. shining light to the far reaches &. cupping him betwixt its palms. it's better than home, far kinder and sweet.
a yawn drags itself across his lips before he realizes it. the poison of sleepiness numbed more than his thoughts, which continued to flit about her. to adore her, to worship her —— to covet the darkchilde. ruler of her domain, a queen all her own [ ... ] praise sits on his tongue, waiting for a chance to grace her. to crown her once more. ( pretty words that come quick as lightning yet fall short. ) never once could a poet encapsulate her. capture her image; few and far between could behold her truly. even he, who thinks he's close, would struggle —— but struggle he would. anything if it meant to garner her favor / anything to see her smile in that way she does.
it's the faint bitterness that finds his tongue that dammed off his poetry. cuts off his pretty words in tandem with the claw catching his fang. it's gentle, if still a little coarse. there's only so much of a delicate touch when it comes to some things —— hardly enough to leave him nonplussed. in fact, he comes closer. drifting along the trajectory that fate intended for him, surely. it felt right —— it felt good to be this close to someone again. what a pair they are, a scion of storms and a woman with the make of a demon. it takes a slight tug to free himself, to lose himself from her hold, even if he avoids a hasty retreat. no, like a magnet to metal, he's drawn to her all too naturally.
there's a soft click as he nips at her claw, and the faintest hint of sparks leaped from it. lingering flecks of magic coming from him —— coming from her. it tastes [ ... ] strange, like eating static. with enough time, he could come to love the taste. his teeth part, tongue tapping the tip of her claw, and rewarded with more of that taste. there's something else between the ash of limbo and the weave of magic in her flesh and bone. a sweetness so exquisite that it changes on his tongue, mystifying his senses. there's a heaviness on his eyelids that wasn't there before dragging them down. sometimes, the flavor of bubblegum rouses him, and then the coolness of nicotine soothes him.
gentle kisses find themselves against the length of her clawed digit. his lips whisper sweet hymns as they work, covering every inch. at times, he bites at her —a flare of mischievousness in his gaze, and then he uses his tongue. drawing it across, rewarded with more, more of her. he wallows in everything about her, the hands only the beginning of his worship. it isn't long before he moves on to other claws, the same tantalizing feel of his lips greeting her —— the heat of his tongue coiling around them. it's more than mere teasing; it's a reverent dance. &. he leads it well. her attention, her desire, happily purloined as it comes. his penchant for enticement is clear as stars in the skies.
it takes time to come off this high. to ignore the yearning in his heart that grips him. he loves her —— she's brilliant and true. [ ... ] but at times, a beast overcomes him. it lurks, it waits, it presses against the bars; lust. it floods his body like poison &. insofar he indulges it. he doesn't want to, not now, to taint something so beautiful. their attraction should be deeper, more profound —— and this was such a time. there's nothing wrong with temptation, but he wants to offer her so much more. his heart, his bones, the flesh atop them, and so much else. that's what he wants to offer her, and he does so, in his way.
gently cupping her hand with his own, he presses a kiss against the back of it. a soft purr comes from deep inside him, a performance within. the flecks of green in his gaze have swallowed up any hint of brown, leaving emeralds in their place. messy bangs frame his face, and the smile is etched into it. still, he holds her in his gaze as soft as he cupped her hand. it's all [ ... ] her. the way her hair falls with slight curls like a sheet of gold, so pale it glitters like silver beneath the light. her eyes a sapphire that even gemstones might come to envy. the fullness of her lips, the flit of gold hanging from her ears, it's all here, before him —— a story of her unbidden yet far from unwelcome. another kiss, thumbs stroking alongside her fingers.
❛ ... любимая, ❜ the word comes off his tongue unevenly; it's heft different, foreign. it nearly chokes him with the strangeness of a new language, but it does not daunt him. stubbornness continues to define him, stubbornly in love, indeed. ❛ did i get that right... ? hey ! don't laugh ! ❜ yes, stubbornly in love, indeed.
