Won't let the sun wrap its arms around me

Sirius Revlis · 09-10-2011, 08:25 AM

[html]

Word Count » 3+

She was a dancing flame, and he knew himself to be the dazzled moth, circling a little too closely to tongues of fire. While the sizzling of heat within his blood told the male of his own desires, he knew far better than to allow them free reign. Chaos was a beautiful thing, the chaos of passion and lust most of all, but self-mastery came from such a deep and steely resolve within him that each calculated move conveyed no more, and no less, than his manically genius wit intended. Although not large of brawn nor fearsome in battle, the Thistle King was a true mastermind, and he played this verbal game with splendid ease.

It seemed that such canniness came naturally to her, too. The siren was a perplexing creature, but Sirius would not become so enthralled as to allow himself to forget the warm blood within her eyes. She had the marks of a sinner, the ruby-red so familiar that he had surely seen it once before...

A slight shake of the physical head discarded such pointless thoughts. Her sweetly barbed reply was rewarded with a lean, crocodilian smile, hungry at the sharp tips of each yellowed dagger. He would not argue such odds, for she was quite possibly a deity amongst warriors, and her prowess was not something the Hunter wished to experience first-hand. His tactics were much fonder of string-pulling, the invisible forces of the psyche that were so easily commanded once one knew how.

With a presumptuously dramatic sigh of relief at her reassurances that his reputation would remain intact, Sirius allowed a warm space to part them further, knowing if he did not that the temptation to burn himself on her heat could become great enough to scald, in itself. Temptation was a well-known foe, and one he battled constantly; Such was the punishment for a creature so enamored with beauty, that it was suggested he loved little more than his own cold reflection. "Report as you will, darkest angel," Came the succulent croon, his eyes flashing once more at her, "Let your soldiers beware the land of Thistle, for I have no doubt that they've not your beauty, skill, nor charm, and would thus not fare as well,"

With gaze still lingering on her with famished intent, the barbed monarch began to melt back into the darkness from whence he had manifested. "Till we meet again, darling Halo," Came the faded words, and then he was no more than another soundless shadow amongst the pines.

mall-caps;}
</style>
[/html]

Login




Remember me Lost Password?