Shuttup. I love you forever.
Wordcount: 3+
There was such darkness within him, such potential for havoc and chaos. The forces of a dim despair, a vengeful and apathetic god; He was blessed with a beauty to make the angels cry, a pelt of sunspilled gold and a lean, athletic body to make a mortal crave. Lucifer, the most beloved of the fallen, the favorite.
She coveted his bleeding hues, a fragile wisp of moonlight and purity that had been stained for knowing him, for loving him as she did. But even this love was, in itself, the rarest form of purity, and although his raven wings furled in an ethereal mist of black to change her colors with their soft embrace, the adoration that had kept her going - The adoration that had manifested itself as such an otherworldly specter that she had become - made the white of her own wings brilliant, forever glowing.
But her love had come with a tragic price, for although they were white as fresh-fallen snow, the dove's wings were truly broken. She was grounded, her voice stolen; No longer the perfect doll-like beauty that his childish hands had warmed with desire, so many lifetimes ago.
However, there was only a fleeting anxiety within her, fear of rejection from her lover's arms. She knew, deep within, that if he were to turn from her now she would die. She would lay down in the bosom of the mountain until the snow cradled her bleached bones. China was frighteningly prepared for this outcome - It stirred within her no girlish terror, only a bland acceptance.
But the power she had once held remained still - A spiderweb spun of silver thread that connected this hell-born beast, this grim gentleman of the underworld, to her side. He had belonged to her, just as she had, and always would, belong to him. It was the way of her magic; The magic of the unicorn, so rare, so delicate, so innocent with its allure. And when his coat wrapped her in warmth, the last of her fears left her, and the girl knew only a bone-deep bliss that warmed her far better than any body-heat or fabric layers could. Muscular arms pulled her toward him, into him, and she came willingly. Her hollow bird bones were nearly weightless to his adult strength, and palms that had reached for him found now the soft plush of silky, creamy gold that sprung from his chest, curling in towards her body as the dove folded into him.
Her head leaned against his pectoral, hearing there a heartbeat that she had not heard for a long time. Safe in the invincibility of his embrace, the girl finally allowed herself to weep - Silent, tearless sobs, delicate shakes that rattled the bones of her chest as her insides ached for them both. She wondered if he knew what had happened to her, for in her mind he was all-knowing, and could read her soul as easily as any parchment. Would he hold her still, even if he knew of the darkness she had allowed within her, that which had been thrust into her being by the man with eyes so similar to his? Would he allow her to love him, even if he knew of how she had willingly opened her legs, desperate to feel again in the way that he had made her feel? Would he care for the songbird once he realized that she had lost her song? The thrill of joy was replaced with a deep and wretched feeling of unworthiness, worse than any physical or mental pain she had felt before.
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