Waking up is strangely tedious process for Terra. Her limbs are numb and she feels cold. Her whole body feels heavy as lead. Eyelids are caked over with something crusty and sticky, and when she lifts a shaky hand to wipe them clean she can hear soft clink of a metal chain. As soon as the voice registers she can feel a thick iron manacle around her wrist, and she remembers. Remembers how Father, in his anger, brought her down here and chained her to the wall. Remembers the sound of his footsteps as he left the room almost running. Remembers how the sound of the door slamming shut echoed deep inside of her chest long after the candle drowned in to a puddle of tallow, leaving her alone in to darkness.
She can hear the rats scurrying around on the moist stone floor, their sharp nails scratching and their small teeth chattering, whiskers curling in anticipation of a warm meal because it has been so long and they can smell her, they can smell her flesh and blood and there are so many of them, all of them swarming at her feet. Stench of rot emanating from the gauze covering her is driving them in to frenzy and they're screaming and grappling, tearing in to each other in their fevered need to feed...
Terra's bloodcurdling scream brings Adam up and a awake from his slumber. He isn't actually sleeping, but preserving the precious energy reserves he still has left. Now they're burning at alarming pace, his heart and brain presenting impossible demands to his sleep-deprived body. There's no detectable threat in the room, and first rays of the rising sun glimmering outside of the window help to ease down his first instinctual bout of panic. He places the batons he's been grasping in death grip on to the chair and goes to Terra who sits up abruptly. She's looking at him with dead eyes, her face a blank mask. Lonely tear rolls down her left cheek.
"Why did you leave me? Don't you love me anymore, Father?" She asks, her voice betraying the magnitude of desperation and disappointment, even shame that she's feeling. Adam sits to the edge of the bed hesitantly.
"Terra?" He calls her name. From the sound of his voice the spell breaks. Terra blinks, finally fully awake.
She stretches and yawns, small smile tugging the corners of her lips.
"I love waking up like this," she whispers. Adam frowns confused.
"First thing I see when I open my eyes is you. Should be like this every morning," Terra explains. Adam's frown grows deeper and he takes her hands in to his own. Her skin feels cold and clammy.
"You were having a nightmare earlier. Do you remember it?" He asks while reaching for a shawl from the bedside table. He wraps it around her shoulders and then urges her to lean on him. She's only happy to comply, now feeling the chill that has carried over from the dream world.
"No. I remember going to sleep. You were sitting over there, and I kept watching you. I was going to stay awake with you, but I must have drifted off. Next thing I know you were there. Why did you wake me? Has something happened?" Terra asks.
"You screamed in your sleep. Gave me a good scare, that's all. Must have been quite a nightmare..."
"It's a good thing that I don't remember it, then," Terra decides, her eyes seeking his.
"You look exhausted. You really should sleep."
Adam thinks about it. Nothing has happened during daylight. At least not before. He's skirting on the edge already, alluring promise of rest, peace and quiet would be easy to accept. Just a brief reprieve. He could close his eyes just for a moment. Even couple of hours would be enough to stop the tremors he can feel inside of him, in his spine, skull and muscle. But he knows for a fact that it'll be several days before it'll be absolutely necessary. He can go on for a little while longer, and he tells it to Terra. She isn't convinced and wrestles him on to bed, task too easy now when his treacherous body chooses to side with her. He keeps blinking his eyes, trying to force them to stay open. It's a battle he will lose. In his final act of defiance he pulls Terra to his side, securing her there with arm thrown around her waist.
"Stay... It's not safe out there..." He breathes out while falling in to abyss.
She squirms to a better position. His whole body is lax and heavy, weighing down on her. Her shield and armor against the strange occurrences. Dream smooths out the deep lines of worry from his face. He's completely unconscious, and she takes this opportunity to inspect his hands. Gloves fit snuggly, and it's apparent that he hasn't taken them off for a long while. Skin underneath the leather is almost deathly pale, heavy scarring at the back of the hands grey in comparison. Fingers are tanned and calloused. Hands made for work. Made for battle. Made for love. She turns his right palm upwards, tracing the mangled line of life and heart with her index finger. He grasps the finger reflexively, but doesn't wake up. She waits for him to release his grasp before continuing, finding the scars from his wrist and forearm. They're strangely crinkled and jagged in comparison to the rest of the scars covering him. She lifts his hand for a closer inspection. Stitchwork is new in comparison. It's not Victor's meticulous handwork. She twists and turns until she can reach his left hand. Scars are similar there. Crude and tangled mess and she can only wonder how Adam has so nimble fingers. She can feel hard lumps of cartilage in places where it shouldn't be.
Adam shifts in his sleep, murmuring softly under his breath. She can't make out the actual words. He sighs and burrows even closer to her, his face buried partly to the crook of her neck. His warm breath only intensifies the chills still racing up and down her spine. She's hungry and she really could use the bathroom. She could do it. If she's really careful, if she moves quickly enough... Fleeting thought of danger crosses her mind, but she shoves it aside. Sun is shining and birds are chirping outside. There's nothing to worry about. Even Adam would agree if he wasn't so blessedly tired. Before the voice of reason gets the chance to step in Terra slides quietly out of the bed and unlocks the door of the bedroom, intent on returning to Adam as soon as her current needs are satisfied.
At night, illuminated with moonlight and few candles, the castle feels ancient and imposing. Formidable fortress. Brightness of the day reveals the state of decay. Sturdy stone walls are crumbling in places. Roof needs fixing up, but Terra suspects that Adam doesn't have the heart to kick out small flock of swallows nesting at the rafters. Adam has replaced most of the broken windows but few remain. They're too far to reach without proper scaffolding.
Her bare feet make no sound on the cool, slightly dusty floor as she hurries through the corridors. Bathroom first, then breakfast. Bathroom is right next to the kitchen, most likely reserved for the kitchen staff back when the castle still had masters and servants. Basically it's just a nook on the wall, separated with a flimsy wooden wall from the corridor. There's a stone bench with a hole on it. Anything dropped in to that hole falls to the moat of the castle. At first she had felt uncomfortable and squeamish about it, but now it feels the most natural thing in the world. Amount of waste they produce won't be a problem even if they lived here centuries.
She hesitates at the door of the bathroom. It's dark in there. Her need to pee wins by a narrow margin and she steps in, her ears perked, ready to flee from the first suspicious sound. She leaves the door wide open to let some light in and sits down.
Door slams shut with such force that it rattles on its hinges.
All of a sudden her full bladder isn't really an issue. Labored sound of breathing echoing from the other side of the door is far more important.
"Adam?" Terra whispers, dread rising at the pit of her stomach. Feet she can see through the cracked boards of the door are bare and smaller than Adam's. They're unmistakably human, but nails have grown to proportions that normal movement is most likely seriously hindered.
Terra shuts her eyes, hoping that this is just some strange aspect of the nightmare Adam claimed her having earlier.
Silent scrape of nails on the stone floor, retreating footsteps. Terra keeps her eyes still shut and holds her breath until she's in complete silence again. When she opens her eyes the door swings slightly ajar, allowing a small sliver of sunlight in. There's no need to pee anymore. Stupid gust of wind and her overactive imagination emptied her bladder the moment she could hear something moving behind the door. She isn't hungry anymore. Sight of those feet, imaginary or not, made her loose her appetite. She hurries back to bedroom, finding Adam nearly comatose on top of blankets. She crawls next to him, grasps his arm and wrestles until she's partly buried under him. In safety. Sound of his heart and feel of it pulsing right next to hers alleviate the worst sting of fear and she's able to follow him in to dream.
There are no more dark clouds in the dreamscape, and she wakes up fresh and relaxed. Adam is still asleep. She knows he needs to rest, but she simply can't resist the temptation. She opens the laces of his boots and pulls them off, one by one. Adam shifts and grumbles but doesn't wake up. She climbs higher on the bed, finding a new dilemma. Boots were easy compared to the trousers. She opens the buttons carefully. This is supposed to be a pleasant wakeup call, she can't have him waking up too soon.
After a bit of maneuvering she has Adam nearly naked. And he's slowly clawing his way to this world. She'd better hurry. One last nudge and trousers fall to the floor. Luckily Adam isn't wearing any underwear. That would have ruined the whole thing.
No matter their surroundings or the horrors awaiting behind dark corners, Terra is spending her days in constant state of arousal. Se can't help it, it's her body telling her that long and lonely nights and dry seasons are over.
She climbs silently over Adam, shifting and grinding until she's straddling him. If the state of his cock is any evidence, he's aware of her actions at least on some basic, animalistic level. He's already hard and throbbing. She begins to lower herself on him, enjoying each and every inch. Adam's eyes open for the briefest of seconds and he lets out a guttural noise, then relaxes back on to the bed.
"Is this okay?" Terra asks, fearing for the possible no. She will surely explode if he denies this. Adam twists his head and grasps the sheets, his breath escaping with short huffs.
"...Yes..."
He keeps his eyes closed and his hands at his sides. Aside of his hitched breathing he could be sleeping. Terra doesn't mind. He's completely at ease now, gone to that special place reserved for those capable of continuous orgasm, and his cock is rubbing her from all the right places when she rides. She knows this can go on for hours. She wants this to last forever. There's nothing else in this world but this moment, she and Adam together.
Changing the angle of her hips she keeps finding all possible forms of pleasure. Adam is beginning to stir underneath her, his hands rising to cup her breasts. She can hear his surprised gasp, and Adam forces her to still the movement of her hips. She's sitting on him, his cock lodged to the hilt in to her. His eyes are seeking hers, then wander lower, down her face and neck, stopping at her breasts.
Milky white and silken skin of her breasts is a stark contrast to his mangled and torn hands. Whereas Terra's skin holds creamy and warm glow, whiteness of Adam's palms brings forth images from graveyards and coffins. He lets them fall back to his sides, turning to look away, shame and disappointment flashing over his features. He's reaching for his gloves when Terra grabs his hands and brings them up to cup her breasts again.
"Don't hide from me..." She whispers. Adam holds on, letting the warmth and softness of her breasts form imprints to his palms while she rides on him for her release.
She collapses on his chest to a boneless heap, her silky hair falling over his throat and shoulders. It tickles, but it really doesn't matter when he's still inside of her tight channel and her core keeps constricting around his shaft. He strokes her back lazily, then grabs the gloves and pulls them on before cradling her face and kissing her.
"I don't like my hands. Don't do it again," he whispers. There's no malice in his voice. It's an honest request. Terra nods.
"Just remember... They're part of you, and there's nothing in you that I wouldn't like," she then whispers and moves her hips experimentally. Adam is more than willing to drop the subject of his hands and continue.