Word Count » 3+
ooc: hurry up and get in my pants <33
While the sweet flowerchild dreamed pretty rosy poetry of escaping her metaphorical bars, Sirius was contemplating how best to imprison her. He was a practical man, and would not have dared steal sweet wanderers from beneath Gabriel's nose as a member of Anathema. But as the Thistle King, his greed for such a prize could remain unchecked. He wanted Clover Lykoi, and he would have her - It was only a matter of how.
Olive eyes, laced as they were with the poison of a thousand spinning thoughts, lifted from the tight weave of the tapestry to the beautiful sweeps of her face. The girl had been crafted with an angel's features, and although romance came to him as a fleeting falseness that lingered with lust beneath the skin, it was a hunter ignited by her apparent beauty and innocence nonetheless. Innocence - The sweet voice of it alone was enough to sooth him. How could he sleep another night without her singing him a lullaby? She was an essential appliance, a compulsory and delectable treat with which to spoil himself.
Her surprise was mirrored, but with less care. The Boss spared no thought for why the girl was beyond the safety of Inferni's clutches - Something about Clover evaded his normally overactive sense of suspicion, his steadily growing paranoia. Few were able to accomplish such a thing, namely Eris, the dark Queen herself, and perhaps the rose-eyed Kimaris witch. The blue-blooded damsel seated before him did so effortlessly, and perhaps this was why Sirius retained his restraint. She seemed impossibly fragile, and while he wanted to possess her, the King did not wish to see her break - Such a thing would only defile the innocence to which he was drawn.
With the casual, sleek movements of the Hunter, Sirius reclined beside her on the tapestry. Narrowed pupils claimed her, but no crocodile smile returned to flash his sharp teeth. Instead, the man seemed to grow sober, his thriving arrogance and vanity drawn tightly to the weariness that was responsibility. "More than you would know, darling Clover," The Boss purred, but his voice was tired, and gaze moved from her to linger on the treeline. There had been much that required his attention at Salsola, as the Family tried to settle in its beautiful, but somewhat inhospitable, territory. There was yet so much to be done.
With a flick of his venomous eyes, the Thistle King's dark charm returned. "I shall be honest with you, then - Take no offense from my bluntness, my dear. I should hate to have you think poorly of me," His silver tongue whispered with sincerity as the puppeteer gathered his strings close. The Revlis man leaned closer to the golden-haired girl, one hand reaching out to take hers, if she would allow such a move. "I have come for you, Clover. I am not the simple man you might have thought me to be, but a King, and no less," It was like voicing a fairy tale, and the words rushed from him eagerly. "Come with me now. Let me show you my kingdom." It was not so much a question as a demand, but the smile remained on his maw, teeth glittering at her hungrily.
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