First decent thing I've written in a while. Glad to know I haven't totally lost it. My 'comeback' into a site, a fandom, I thought I had abandoned. Some things, some loves, will never be forgotten.
Only a drabble, but expect more in the future.
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A candle is flickering out of the corner of her eye and the opaque weight in her mind makes her wonder, vaguely, how she can afford to notice it.
She tries to count the fingers digging into the slick flesh of his shoulder as a soft fire trailed across her neck, shuddering and growing hot to the point of pain before dwindling into the wet track of his tongue. Hazy breaths and whispered moans echoed across the dim-lit room and locked her eyes, misplacing the key as she felt a miasma of cracked lips graze her neck with an enflamed touch.
It is all heat, and sweat, and intimacy with miles and oceans of exposed warmth, and she is engulfed, petrified, of this strange and conquering monster, urging for more, of his everything, and an enslaved conscience frets over whether or not he can give her enough to satisfy the enamored beast.
A blossom of fire sparks, there, just there, and there is the speed and rush of wind and flying without wings or ever seeing the wisps of condensation in the sky. Suddenly she understands, the rigid earth and the cascading water and deafening air, but above all... the crest she makes out in the darkness, crimson as the blood that gushed through their entwined veins. Who they are, where they come from, why they are here... their names, a son and daughter of the flame that is consuming them, before exploding in a wave of sensation and dusted stars.
He flicks sated gold and fixes them to her gaze, lidded and appreciative. The spirit of a dissipating smile presses into the path of her jaw, trembling in its wake until it reaches her ear with a burdened sigh. The ivory taboo of her skin blooms with hairs rising to attention at that provoking caress, and he murmurs something incomprehensible before shattering contact and captivates himself to his subconscious.
A swiftly becoming abundant gesture of quiet placement allows a palm ghosting slightly onto the sculpted expanse of his back, before resting, finally, on the jutted hemoglobin blades. With a tender curve of her lips she succumbs to the words he cannot seem to say too well ("I love you"), and follows after him as she always had, as she always wishes to do.
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Please review.