Maleficent paused. She knew she shouldn't be doing as such, but she couldn't help herself.
Her eyes drank in the site before her: The beautiful, young princess splayed out on the floor before her. The girl's hair was surrounding her like waves of golden silk, seemingly unfazed from the journey to the ground. The girl's fair skin was almost milky white, and the pureness and the smoothness of it would be tempting to any man.
But the fact remained that Maleficent was not a man. She was not even close to Aurora's age, though age didn't truly make a difference when gender was taken into account.
Maleficent couldn't help her eyes from wandering over the girl's body, wondering what lay beneath the folds and tucks of her dress. The small bit of skin exposed on Aurora's legs, though, was like an unending drug that was as addicting as air.
The older woman moved forward, though she was hardly aware of doing so. She kneeled, her breaths coming harder and faster, as the distance between the two of them shrank. As close as she was, Maleficent could smell the scent emanating from the girl; the one that just seemed so perfect and right.
She smelled of flowers, and perhaps pine...something wonderful and natural.
Maleficent shook her head, trying to clear the fog from her mind. It worked, if only briefly. Hardly a few seconds had passed before she was leaning forward, her face inches from Aurora's. Maleficent could feel the girl's breaths ghost across her face.
She couldn't stop herself.
She couldn't help herself.
Aurora's lips were warm against her cold ones. The girl's lips were dry, but not in an unpleasant way. Maleficent felt electricity race from the younger woman into herself, shocking her long-dead heart back into life, allowing it to pound against Maleficent's chest in a hesitant panic.
It was with great reluctance that Maleficent pulled back.
Aurora looked the same as she had looked before the heated kiss. Not even a flush graced the girl's smooth cheeks.
Maleficent smiled bitterly. Of course, the fates would do this to her. Who was she, after all? The ugly evil "villain", that's who. The green-tinted witch who placed a curse upon the very girl who was laying before her. There was no hope for her to receive the one thing she desired.
"So," Maleficent whispered, her hand caressing the girl's cheek, the bitter smile still in place. "So," she repeated, "it's not true love."
Maleficent's hand curled into an angry claw, her nails grazing over Aurora's cheek, before she stood up.
She turned, striding away, not looking back.
A/N Well. That was depressing. And now I sorta ship this.
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