&---p l a i n f i g u r a t i v e s i g h t ;
Shit, he decides right then and there, because whatever he does, he'll still end up going to hell. It's well into the night and he's lonely and he supposes he likes the way his name rolls off her tongue. He doesn't care about his status, her powers, her elders, his elders; all he knows is that she's warm under his skin and her nails feel abruptly satisfying scraping his back. There is heat and radiance and her face is surprisingly gorgeous as it horribly twists, her body squirming to accommodate him.
He can't think of anything else but that he still likes the way she says his name, even if he can't see her lips purse or her mouth smile because one minute he's got her pinned and whispering wickedly devilish things in her ear while she grabs around him for support. There is a certain degree of fear and satisfaction as he collides on top of her tiny frame, panting and shivering with delight. His hands longingly search for her hands and they interlock. Cullen can only think between each breath exchanged, is how good his hands feel dug deep into hers. It's meant to be, and he sweeps his lover over with his hungry eyes.
They fall asleep only infinities later, wrapped around in arms and sheets and honest love.
The hours after that are sweaty. Sticky and sincere and rouge. He rolls over to get a look at her sleeping form, pushing back the hair clinging onto her flushed face. He brings his lips to hers and they burn like fire, but he believes he likes the sting well enough to do it several more times. He's surprised to realize she's been awake this whole time as she kisses him back, in small mischievous pecks. Her eyes lay closed, and all he wants to see are those marvelous browns looking at him. And only him.
He shakes his head in peculiar sympathy and rises off her bed, grabbing his scattered clothes off her floor, adjusting her robes and folding them neatly, still watching her as her naked chest rises and falls with her breath. The sheets are a tangled mess, its soft silk laced delicately along the contours of her body, stopping short at her legs. All he can think about is the burning of his lips, the sinful crime he's committed, but he knows he's already indulged enough already so he turns to the door and walks out without a word.
--
The next day is ordinary, and as the sunlight peers through the Circle's windows, he is envious to notice the rays have found her first.
"Hello Cullen," she smiles genuinely.
His actions flash like a bolt to the mind and he longs to hold her just once more.
"Hello, Surana," he nods, and bows his head lower.
His lips burn for a familiar softness as his eyes lower their stare to her lips, and he is glad his helmet shields the burn in his cheeks.
"It's a fine day today, isn't it?"
His face falls, his heart swiftly peeling away until only pain seemed to be left:
"Yes, it is a fine day."
---&END.