05-18-2010, 06:10 AM
WC: 642.
I hate writing these at work; they always seem so rushed and crap. >.> Heh.
Forgive me for the terribleness of this post... Oh, & your post was brilliant btw! <33
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She lay there, quiet and thoughtful. It was strange the way things worked out – she had stumbled upon this spot accidentally, and had dozed here to escape the insomnia, the nightmares. She had not known that the dreams would have been literal; the escape was real. He was that escape, and although in some senses she was trapped in the moment – in his embrace – she felt invincible. She felt whole. That, in itself, wasn’t normal for the obsidian female. She had never felt like she fitted anywhere, let alone with a solider from Inferni – a coyote, as well. The world worked in mysterious ways; it played out like a bad romance novel, and even though the clichés and the corny moments made her subconscious cringe, she felt as though it was something she would want to see through. It was something she couldn’t – or even wouldn’t – give up. He was hers now, and she was his; she just hoped it was a long-term thing. She hoped he would remain hers for a while - the idea of a relationship crossing the dark winding pathways of her mind – but it quickly disappeared into the abyss of twisted realities and destructive voices. The sensation of his digits brushing past her hip distracted her from the cold, distant screams of her mind – and she smiled. Eyes half closed, watching him above her, watching him succumb to his inner desires. He had control, more than her in fact – but she would not beg, she would not plead. She wanted him to feel the same uncontrollable urges – she wanted him to break his inabilities to make the first move.
The musk of his scent filled her nostrils. It poisoned her veins and intoxicated her system. It felt like a virus, breaking down her walls and destroying her cells. It was programmed to destroy her flaws, and it definitely seemed to be working. He made her feel beautiful, wanted. She just hoped it would remain so; she didn’t want to give herself away if he would disappear. That would break her – it would kill her. She had no doubts about it. She was lusting after him like drugs and alcohol, like nicotine. He was her new addiction, and it appeared that he knew that. Why was he not scared away? ...Curious, very curious indeed.
The silence ate away at her like a plague. It twisted her stomach, knotted her intestines. The pounding of her heart in her chest, her ribcage tightening around her lungs. She could feel her breaths catching in her throat; she could hear the slight moans in her voice. The flush of pleasure across her skin as he caressed her jaw line with his lips. She smiled again; eyes glazed over, hand curled around the base of his neck, egging him on, and one fist tightened in the sand. Lucia was in heaven – he was heaven. He was perfect. “Do you want this? Tell me you want me.” Her words were barely a whisper, she couldn’t speak. He was controlling her, he was dominant. Just the way she liked it. She wanted him to do things his way, she enjoyed it. She liked to play submissive. “If we do this, will you still be mine tomorrow?” Paranoia in her voice, masked by the tone of arousal. She hoped he wouldn’t hear her insecurities; she didn’t want to ruin the mood. She wasn’t ready to give him up – would she ever be now she had tasted him? She didn’t know, and frankly, didn’t quite care for the matter at the current moment in time. She just had to be sure that he would still be around – still be hers. She wanted him, seriously and committed. Would he do it? She would see. “Be mine?” she begged, a glimmer of fading hope in her glassy optics. “...Officially?”
I hate writing these at work; they always seem so rushed and crap. >.> Heh.
Forgive me for the terribleness of this post... Oh, & your post was brilliant btw! <33
-----
She lay there, quiet and thoughtful. It was strange the way things worked out – she had stumbled upon this spot accidentally, and had dozed here to escape the insomnia, the nightmares. She had not known that the dreams would have been literal; the escape was real. He was that escape, and although in some senses she was trapped in the moment – in his embrace – she felt invincible. She felt whole. That, in itself, wasn’t normal for the obsidian female. She had never felt like she fitted anywhere, let alone with a solider from Inferni – a coyote, as well. The world worked in mysterious ways; it played out like a bad romance novel, and even though the clichés and the corny moments made her subconscious cringe, she felt as though it was something she would want to see through. It was something she couldn’t – or even wouldn’t – give up. He was hers now, and she was his; she just hoped it was a long-term thing. She hoped he would remain hers for a while - the idea of a relationship crossing the dark winding pathways of her mind – but it quickly disappeared into the abyss of twisted realities and destructive voices. The sensation of his digits brushing past her hip distracted her from the cold, distant screams of her mind – and she smiled. Eyes half closed, watching him above her, watching him succumb to his inner desires. He had control, more than her in fact – but she would not beg, she would not plead. She wanted him to feel the same uncontrollable urges – she wanted him to break his inabilities to make the first move.
The musk of his scent filled her nostrils. It poisoned her veins and intoxicated her system. It felt like a virus, breaking down her walls and destroying her cells. It was programmed to destroy her flaws, and it definitely seemed to be working. He made her feel beautiful, wanted. She just hoped it would remain so; she didn’t want to give herself away if he would disappear. That would break her – it would kill her. She had no doubts about it. She was lusting after him like drugs and alcohol, like nicotine. He was her new addiction, and it appeared that he knew that. Why was he not scared away? ...Curious, very curious indeed.
The silence ate away at her like a plague. It twisted her stomach, knotted her intestines. The pounding of her heart in her chest, her ribcage tightening around her lungs. She could feel her breaths catching in her throat; she could hear the slight moans in her voice. The flush of pleasure across her skin as he caressed her jaw line with his lips. She smiled again; eyes glazed over, hand curled around the base of his neck, egging him on, and one fist tightened in the sand. Lucia was in heaven – he was heaven. He was perfect. “Do you want this? Tell me you want me.” Her words were barely a whisper, she couldn’t speak. He was controlling her, he was dominant. Just the way she liked it. She wanted him to do things his way, she enjoyed it. She liked to play submissive. “If we do this, will you still be mine tomorrow?” Paranoia in her voice, masked by the tone of arousal. She hoped he wouldn’t hear her insecurities; she didn’t want to ruin the mood. She wasn’t ready to give him up – would she ever be now she had tasted him? She didn’t know, and frankly, didn’t quite care for the matter at the current moment in time. She just had to be sure that he would still be around – still be hers. She wanted him, seriously and committed. Would he do it? She would see. “Be mine?” she begged, a glimmer of fading hope in her glassy optics. “...Officially?”