There she is.
My beautiful, elegant, talented Black Swan, dancing along with the sound of her sweet music. She wears a black ballet skirt and her make up brings a highlight to her eyes, as her dark purple hair is free, moving wildly as she moves quickly in her stage.
Entering her personal stage room - of which we shared great moments inside -, I sit down in one of the red seats in the back, watching carefully as the music gets louder.
Heh. Sometimes I'd look at her, such a talented, skilled and deadly woman, and I'd wonder, "Why do I love her?". The answer is still a mystery for me, even though she asks me the same question every single day.
She's so smart. Asking me the same damn question, over and over and over, only to make me ponder about it, only so she knew I loved her by multiple different reasons, reasons that were impossible to write on a list, due to it being infinite.
But one of these reasons is because she is like an alcoholic drink, or a simple cigarette; when you look at it, you think you can have a little taste of it and then you'd leave it, but then you suddenly get addicted to it. That's it. I am completely addicted to my Siren.
Sometimes she'd look at me and question why do I love a monster like her. Oh, my sweet Siren. She doesn't know how beautiful she is compared to what I've seen in my Foot member years. Strange and gross aliens, annoying comrades, the worst possible employer ever and finally, the Turtles.
Although Black Swan did meet the Turtles, I believe she feels indifferent about them and herself, like she was just as monstrous as they are, no matter how many times I tell her how beautiful she truly is, on the inside and on the outside.
"Is my audience liking what they see?" Siren asks from her stage, and I know she's referring to me only. It makes me grin on my dark seat.
"Yes," I tell her, rosing from my seat and walking slowly towards her, "And your audience is delirious to see more of your delightful show, my Black Swan." I can almost feel the pleasure she feels when I call her this way. I know she loves to be the center of all attention.
"Oh, Husband," She says, slowing down as the music does the same, and blinks quickly in my direction. "You know how to make me smile." I know what she means.
As the music ends, she slowly kneeled down on the water, and I am close enough of her stage to dive into it. Swimming close to her, I take her hands and pull her to the depths of our water stage, a smile painted on my face. I hold her hips as her legs change into her beautiful tail, that is just another attraction. Now, she is the one pushing me deeper, and I fear nothing. Even death sounds pleasurable, if it came by my wife's hands.
I feel when she wraps her pale arms around my neck, and connect our lips in a way she knows I love. Feeling her cold, soft lips moving in harmony with mine is yet another reason why I'm addicted to this poisonous, attractive, beautiful sea witch - My sea witch. It's because of the feeling of having her so close, that warms my heart and makes the agonizing pain of suffocation less painful, and more pleasurable. Even though I feel like I could drown in any second, I don't want to let go of her, not now, not later, I never want to let go of her.
Fortunately and also unfortunately, she let go of me, and I could once again feel the burning sensation of my lungs, begging for the oxygen that my wife always takes away from me, inside the water or not. I feel her hand pulling me upwards, towards the surface, and finally when I reached it, I was greeted with my dear oxygen.
Once I have completely recovered from my suffocating experience, Wife envolves her wet arms around my neck again, facing me with her hypnotizing dark brown eyes, with their faded yet beautiful tone of amber, and could be so deep as the ocean itself.
Finally, she asked me the so waited question, "Tell me, Husband, why do you love me again?" My smart baby. I feel as she moves her tail slowly, as I answer her,
"I love you, Siren, because nobody could make me so pleased with the feeling of drowning other than you." I tell, her, pulling her close enough for me to feel the sweet scent of her hair - which did not come from a shampoo, I know the shampoo she uses smells different -, natural as always.
"Hm, is that is?" She asks in the sexy tone she knows that melts me, "Then let me ask you, Husband," She pushed me to the wall of our water-made stage, as she stared deeply into my eyes, showing the immense passion she feels right now, "Would you let me drown you?"
That question was... Unexpected, at least. But still, that's an easy question. My Siren is my life. I'd live for her. I'd die for her. And I'd do it smiling, if it happened. Dying by my wife's hands; it sounds terrible by other people's ears, but for me, boy, that'd be a dream coming true.
"Yes." I tell her, fearing nothing, imagining the feeling of me and her, deep down in the safety of her water, feeling my love for her get stronger and stronger.
"I'm not very sure of that," She whispered, the delicious sensation of the Siren's voice in it's soft, teasing tone, made my hands walk curiously through her body, exploring every inch of it, "Would you let me drown you, Husband?"
"Please drown me, Wife," I tell her in the most reassuring way ever, feeling the fire of lust and love ignite in my eyes, "Let me feel you."
I felt as she placed her hands on my shoulders, as she softly laid kisses that traveled my jaw lines, her lips making their way towards my lips, and I returned her gestured with a strong, passionate kiss, as she pulled me back to the cold waters of her room.