A/N: Love lived in the light may allow us to see beauty, but only love conceived of shadows can create it.
Make of it what you will.
Surrender
By Aezara She took his hand.
She took his hand and pressed his palm to her lips.
"You're mine, now," she whispered. Yesterday he belonged only to himself. No one belonged to him. He was the proverbial island that we are told that no man can be. He has always gone to great lengths to prove otherwise, carving a shoreline of jagged rocks and soul-sucking surf around his silhouette. All who dared approach were either drowned in his icy waters or torn to shreds by the deadly sharp points of his eyes. Until now.
Until her. She took his hand and in one breath, the rocks were ground to sand and the breaking waves grew calm. She did what was impossible.
She could do it only because it was impossible.
Had he been a different man, he might have withstood the fury that crumbled his walls, scoured the wilderness of his mind, ripped him apart. She took his hand and tore out of him something that was less than flesh, more than spirit. She took his soul with one twist of her hand. She went to a place where no one else had ever dared trespass. She was able to enter because she wouldn't take his fear for an answer. She shook him roughly from the foundation of isolation that was his home. She set fire to the stone and liquefied it. She liquefied him. He wants to believe that he allowed it to happen.
He knows he is wrong. She took his hand and proclaimed him hers, and it was so. He no longer owns his heart. She has violated him. She has raped his spirit, bled it until it has been worn smooth. The rocks of his coastline now beckon bare feet; his island has been invaded and conquered and made a peninsula. She has infuriated him, taken him to a point of rage that even he had never reached. He has been galled by her wrath. He has been cowed by it. She took him apart and rattled his elements into a new form. She laughed when he settled, screaming, into the dust...laughed at his tears when he failed to recognize himself. She has destroyed him with one gesture, one phrase. She takes his hand and whispers, "You're mine, now." And he breathes, "Thank you." Finis
By Aezara She took his hand.
She took his hand and pressed his palm to her lips.
"You're mine, now," she whispered. Yesterday he belonged only to himself. No one belonged to him. He was the proverbial island that we are told that no man can be. He has always gone to great lengths to prove otherwise, carving a shoreline of jagged rocks and soul-sucking surf around his silhouette. All who dared approach were either drowned in his icy waters or torn to shreds by the deadly sharp points of his eyes. Until now.
Until her. She took his hand and in one breath, the rocks were ground to sand and the breaking waves grew calm. She did what was impossible.
She could do it only because it was impossible.
Had he been a different man, he might have withstood the fury that crumbled his walls, scoured the wilderness of his mind, ripped him apart. She took his hand and tore out of him something that was less than flesh, more than spirit. She took his soul with one twist of her hand. She went to a place where no one else had ever dared trespass. She was able to enter because she wouldn't take his fear for an answer. She shook him roughly from the foundation of isolation that was his home. She set fire to the stone and liquefied it. She liquefied him. He wants to believe that he allowed it to happen.
He knows he is wrong. She took his hand and proclaimed him hers, and it was so. He no longer owns his heart. She has violated him. She has raped his spirit, bled it until it has been worn smooth. The rocks of his coastline now beckon bare feet; his island has been invaded and conquered and made a peninsula. She has infuriated him, taken him to a point of rage that even he had never reached. He has been galled by her wrath. He has been cowed by it. She took him apart and rattled his elements into a new form. She laughed when he settled, screaming, into the dust...laughed at his tears when he failed to recognize himself. She has destroyed him with one gesture, one phrase. She takes his hand and whispers, "You're mine, now." And he breathes, "Thank you." Finis