#verlicia

The first few days were that of tension and blunt words, but soon, she couldn't deny the comfort of his wit and playful attitude. She'd throw her rocks and contemplate the Monolith, invite him to do the same, and he'd take the thoughts she allowed to spill from her lips. The company was warm in ways she hadn't felt in weeks, like normalcy could exist in those few hours from sunset to sunrise. The glowing numbers in the horizon could be but neon lights in their nightly escapade if he made enough laughter bubble from her throat.

So she fulfilled her duties; she fought, she wrote, and then, she breathed. Scarred knuckles twirled knives as his charming smile mellowed her senses, each night sitting closer until the boulders and logs where he had rested at arm's length were forgotten for the grass and cobblestone warmed by her hands. 

She'd judged him harshly at first, a man who showed too late and said too little, who swaggered into battle with the confidence of someone who had already defeated the very God they sought to destroy. But he was kind and melancholy in a way only a century could taint you, in a way she felt deep in her confused heart where no one else could. She thought it silly, relating to the trials of a hundred year-old man, but life had hardly been her friend – not in the way Gustave had been.

It was a funny thing, the way sharing touch and laughter can turn to a head resting on a shoulder, the embers of the campfire crackling like a lullaby. How a walk in the quiet woods surrounded by luminescent trees can lead to a hand protectively around her waist.

Verso was ever the gentleman, with the patience and demeanor of a prince, waiting with a keen eye for her to step alongside him. And step she did. Sitting at the edge of the world with legs dangling off the rocky ledge, her fingers brushed his own curiously and he took hers with practiced ease. Their friendship, hesitant and tense as it may have once been, had turned into an exciting bit of comfort.

Rocks were thrown, pages were written, laughs were shared. And then, the lacing of fingers, of brushing cheeks and carding through hair. It felt so refreshing, so freeing, to feel and revel in that feeling. To touch and tremble from that touch. Verso kissed with the hunger of a wolf, yet the care of a lover, like each moment was precious and he yearned so profoundly to live it all to the fullest. It was everything she felt in Lumière and everything people in Lumière were not. She giggled and grinned at the pocket of delight that was his lips on her skin, as the stars above them bore witness. She tasted and savoured, and eagerly let him have more and more to satiate his lonely heart.

"You're still innocent, are you not?" He asked one night, breathless.

"Am I that bad of a kisser?" She'd teased in response.

"Much on the contrary, love," and he'd kissed her deeper, his tongue ravaging her with the calm precision only experience could afford. And she'd relished that experience, in that slice of heaven they'd carved amidst her purgatory.

"But yes," she eventually said." I am."

Days later her thighs strained as they laid spread, naked on Verso's cape as saliva dripped down the cleft of her ass. His lips were wrapped around her, sucking and licking her pink flesh as a finger thrust in and out, curling in maddening ways that had her sobbing and trembling beneath him.

It became almost routine for them, a way to experience delight and relief after a long day of death and turmoil. In those moments, much like with their chatter and comfortable silences, there was a warmth only two strange souls could forge. She wasn't yet sure what type of man he even was, only that his essence was like hers in ways she couldn't explain. He was there for her fully, like a comrade, like something grander, and her hardened heart wondered absentmindedly if she, too, could one day be the same for him.

Until then though, he feasted on her body. With large hands holding her hips down in a vice grip, with teeth grazing her inner thighs, and fingerpads massaging her silken insides. Every night was the same, and with every orgasm she would tighten her legs around Verso's neck, his fingers digging into her flesh, into her core, and his tongue would guide her through it, drinking her in, making her dance.

Each time, he'd lick her clean, kiss her temple and tuck her in to sleep. And each time she'd always ask about him, about the hardness that strained against his clothes and how she yearned to try it for herself.

"Don't worry," he would always say. "Your pleasure is enough to please me." His smile was always kind and sated, his lips and beard wet from her pleasure. What it was he was hiding illuded her, but it had been hard to argue when her limbs had felt like jelly and the fondness in his visage so often made her stomach flutter.

On that night, though, she felt resolute.

They'd travelled the continent all day, mapping out the wilds and making their way North. She thought all day of his calloused fingers brushing her cheek that morning, trailing tantalising lines down her face and over her lips. Red had filled her eyes as he showed her a poppy he’d picked on their trek and carefully tucked into her hair. Again, there was that fond look in his eyes, with a bittersweet longing that twisted her stomach in knots all day. The words he would not say, she understood. She may not know all the shades of chroma in his heart but the things he would not say, the things he desired, were written plainly for her to read. 

When night came and once more his tongue brought her closer and closer to ecstasy, her poor heart squeezed in her chest, her lips pressing in a pout as her hands grabbed the leather on his shoulders.

"Verso, please," she sobbed.

His voice was gravelly, enraptured by the desire of taking more than he should allow himself.

"I've got you, love. Just hang on and relax, yes?"

She whined, his voice ambrosia to her ears.

"N-No," she insisted stubbornly. "Please, I want you."

He paused for a moment, contemplative, before kissing her bud gently, then trailing more kisses down her thigh. He stopped at the inside of her knee, his eyes sharp as they glanced up at her.

"I understand your frustrations, but... This isn’t something for me to take."

"You don’t get to– Ah!" She choked on a moan as his thumb slithered over her and rubbed circles as she spoke. It was a dirty trick. Were she not compromised, she would have given him a beating for it. "For God's sake, Verso..."

"Does this not please you?" He asked with a taunting grin.

"Does this not frustrate you?" She threw the question back. He licked his lips, his sharp eyes burning her. "I kn-know what you want. I know you w-want me. All of me."

She spoke as determined as she could with her wavering voice, Verso’s icy eyes peering at her with something like surprise in them. He looked vulnerable for that second, like a blade had flown past him and nicked his skin. But soon enough he averted her gaze, focusing on her sex as his forefinger and middle finger slithered their way back inside her wet, loose hole. He curled them deep within her, the feeling both torturous and decadent. It made her wonder how grander the real thing would feel.

"Do I, now?" He asked, his velvety voice cutting through the sound of moisture in the air.

"You do,” she said with more desperation than intended.

"Hmm… Then if you do, why would I deny myself."

"Because you're a coward." He stilled, his shoulders tense. His eyes raised just enough to take in her pleasured, yet conflicted expression, huffing between the sweet sensations he gave her and the frustration of his denial.

How could he be surprised? Of course she could tell by the way he touched and looked at her, at the way he protected her like a knight did his lady. The way he danced around conversations, both colouring and alluding her with the contents of his soul. 

What was he so afraid of?

"Regardless of the reason, you think you’re doing me an injustice by our coupling.”

He nodded, his expression dark with a look of self-hatred she found heartbreaking.

"I appreciate your consideration, as shady a man as you might be," she smirked, "but I don't care whatever reasoning you have to save my innocence. I made my choice – I want to feel you, and I want it now."

He shook his head low, his eyes downcast behind falling locks of pale hair.

"You don't know what you're asking."

She tutted in aggravation.

"I may be young but I don't quite like being looked down upon."

He couldn’t help but snort. He looked up, his sad, glistening eyes regaining some mirth.

"Must be rough, given your size."

She swatted his arm lightly.

"I'm serious!"

His fingers curled into her slowly, his smile relaxed as he rested his bearded cheek against her knee. His thumb rubbed her gently, slowly, and she felt her body relax.

"I've lived a long life, Maelle, longer than any man should live. It pains me that you want me of all people to take your youth away from you, as if I haven't taken enough."

She licked her lips, contemplating the bitterness in his smooth voice.

"I don't care," she said gently, cupping his hand on her leg with hers. "I want to live before I die. And choose to live this moment with you.”

He sighed, stroking her leg affectionately, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"When have I ever been able to deny you anything?”

“I can think of plenty of times, actually.”

“Not when you smith your words so virtuously."

"Eh, I'm more of a fighter anyways," she shrugged cheekily. The taunt made him grin more genuinely. She was grateful for it.

He dove back down between her thighs and lavished her pink folds with his tongue, fingering her deeper and stretching her wider. It wasn't difficult, with how many times she’d been fucked with his hands and tongue before. It would still be a tight fit, her small body unaccustomed to anything else, but she felt supple to his touch – soft, wet and ready.

He licked his fingers hungrily, tasting her as he palmed his erection through his trousers. It looked big, its outline drawing over his hip in a mouthwatering way. She observed with wide, curious eyes as he unlaced their front and shimmied the fabric down.

Fine hair coated toned muscle, even thicker hair trailing down his navel and into the confines of his underwear. It was wet where his tip pressed against the thin fabric and she reached out with a deft and curious hand to touch it. He bit his lip, trembling ever so slightly as she felt his length, trailing her fingertips over it incrementally. She couldn't contain the excitement on her face.

"Will it fit?"

"I'll make sure of it."

He stood up. The blue-tinted bioluminescence of the trees made him look all the more imposing. He removed his overcoat, his shirt, shoes and trousers. His toned body was to die for, large scars and dark hair and muscled ridges formed from arduous strain. She touched herself as Verso palmed his erection once more, looking down at her with a thumb beneath his briefs, drinking her in, as well as the moment. And when he fully stood nude, cock free from its confines, Maelle breathed a sigh of relief.

It was as bigger than it seemed, especially as Verso tugged on it, his palm circling its head and down the shaft eagerly. He knelt down before her, pressed their crotches against each other and her jaw went slack as his cock draped over her sex and rested on her lower belly lewdly.

"That's how deep it's going to go," he said, the throbbing between her legs making her tremble. She reached between them, her palm holding his erection flush to her body, feeling his warmth and picturing it piercing herself in mere moments.

"Please, Verso," she said as she drank in the sheer size of it on her tiny body, her eyes round and pleading. "I want to feel it..."

He gathered saliva in his mouth as he rubbed his head against her nub, then spat down on his shaft and spread it eagerly, repeating the action a couple of times more before leaning down to kiss her deeply. His mouth was hot as his cockhead slipped into her easily, the feeling foreign, but exciting. She rubbed herself between them and relaxed her body as he lifted her legs by her knees to hook them over his shoulders.

With her arse off the ground she felt him slide in, slowly, with small trusts slowly pumping his cock deeper inside of her.

She whined, electricity sparking in her belly as he lit up every nerve in her core at once, his hungry mouth trailing down her jaw and onto her neck. Teeth and tongue lay waste to her sensitive skin, making her sob and cry into the night as she grabbed onto his hair and rubbed herself further.

"Verso," she moaned. "More, more...!"

"Fuck," he gasped, his hips jutting unconsciously as he kept filling her up, nearly bottoming out. "Almost there, love. You feel amazing."

"Y-you too," her voice wavered, her sight murky as the tension built.

When his hips were fully flush with hers, Verso sighed deeply, her core squeezing him further and further in as she shivered from the pleasure.

"So good," she sighed as she drew slow, slow circles around herself, basking in the moment with awe. "So tight with you inside."

"Imagine how I feel, love."

She chuckled, bringing him down and licking into his mouth. She wiggled her hips in a silent plea, and he was more than glad to oblige her.

He thrust short and shallow, giving her time to get used to the stretch as they both gathered their bearings. She shivered, her belly growing tighter with each small thrust and each wet kiss. Verso could feel the way she was tightening like a vice around him, shaking like a leaf and whining into his mouth. He thrust all the way out, then slammed back in hard, and with a cry, Maelle came.

He kept thrusting as she spasmed around him, moving his hips hard and fast as her back bent like a bowstring. She sobbed and sang his name into the night, tight like vice around him, squeezing him dry as he gave all of him for her to revel in. The sound of the wetness between them was deaf to his ears as he gasped — much quicker than he expected, he too reached his peak.

His hips stuttered against her, fucking her deep and desperate as his seed spilled into her. He rode wave after wave of blinding bliss, his jaw tense and his voice rough as he groaned into her neck. She still touched herself despite it all, still clinging onto the last dying threads of her orgasm as he used her body for his pleasure.

And then they both stopped.

Their breaths were laboured, her smile wide and giddy as he looked down at her, his hair curling softly at the ends as it framed his handsome face. He bracketed her head with hands on either side, his softening erection still inside her as they caught their breaths and shared that moment.

A comfortable, shared silence. No rocks or sharpened blades. No notebook or crackling campfire. Just a cloak, their bodies, and the seed between them. Her heart beat impossibly fast, her skin as warm as the pit of her belly. She may have only been a girl, but she felt as though she’d lived a lifetime.

“Thank you.”

The man above her looked at her with the same eyes as he did when he placed a flower in her hair that very afternoon. The love he harboured in them was something profound, something that echoed in the deepest parts of her soul and called out for him.

The expedition was meant to be a way of finding that missing bit of her essence, of following that thread that led to nowhere, but resonated within her so desperately. That feeling that begged to be found and grasped, so she could be made whole again. Now, beneath the strange man she took as a friend, along with the very stars she grew up with, that feeling never felt so right.

How could a man be that very thing she looked for? How could a stranger feel like home? As she reached for a lock of raven hair and combed it behind his ear, she wondered if the strange, unfair things happening to her could all be mended by his touch.

As if on cue, Verso broke that contemplative silence, a witty grin on his lips that promised nothing good.

“Well, I haven’t cum that fast since I was a teenager,” he said, still looking a little winded.

Maelle snorted.

“Me too,” she retorted sardonically.

Verso shook his head with a laugh and laid down with her. He took her into his arms and switched their positions before she could react, a loud yelp escaping her lips. She giggled as she laid on his chest nonetheless, happily resting her cheek over his heart as his arms held her close.

On the horizon, she read thirty-three. Zero for them if they lost; plenty more if they were set free.

The suffocating enclosure she’d felt all her life didn’t exist under those stars, under that night sky so distorted by chroma and the cataclysm of The Fracture. His sure hands, clever words and fond eyes breathed life into her.

She need not fret what once was, nor fear of what was to come.

She could just live. And maybe, she could even love.

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