REXANNA
they say the loveliest angels
make the cruelest demons
It’s unconvincing at best the way Remi begins to give her a solid answer, but she doesn’t mind. He shrugs, and she finds she can send Ronin an apology (likely it won’t happen again unless absolutely necessary) should it be needed. But her focus is on him now, as she takes his hand into her own, a silent question in her eyes as she looks up to him. And then she bites.
Immediately, Remi’s reaction is to be expected, and silently she wonders if Frey could see them now. It’s overtaken as the taste of copper and warmth erupts within her, a sparkling feeling that ignites on her tongue. And where most things taste like ash the moment it touches, she finds Remi’s blood to be tantalizing, like fine wine, as she fills so slowly enough of herself the amount she thinks she needs. (Expertly cautious with it since her rendezvous with Lucas.) She can’t help but to indulge a little bit at least, the feeling so great and vibrant within her, she finds herself leaning closer to him — one hand braced on his chest while her nails grip onto his shirt before they slide to his neck, to grasp his curls. Her eyes lift up to meet his sea foam ones, continuing her drink, watching while he struggles with the feeling.
Rexanna doesn’t know what it’s like, having always been satisfied after. But it feels wrong, to attempt it in the moment. He is married, and she is engaged, after all.
She pulls from him then, covering the wound with a hand, the other brushing the blood from her lips as she smiles to him, feeling the crackle and fire within her shift toward something else, something bigger and she sighs contently. But Remi? She leans to him then, using the one hand that covers his own, to see what it is he would like in return with a small playful tug — wondering if it borders on the edges of not okay.
Still, she tempts fate.
Carefully and gently, the Penumbra situated herself on the rock to fully face Remi, to see what he might do, what he might want.
Immediately, Remi’s reaction is to be expected, and silently she wonders if Frey could see them now. It’s overtaken as the taste of copper and warmth erupts within her, a sparkling feeling that ignites on her tongue. And where most things taste like ash the moment it touches, she finds Remi’s blood to be tantalizing, like fine wine, as she fills so slowly enough of herself the amount she thinks she needs. (Expertly cautious with it since her rendezvous with Lucas.) She can’t help but to indulge a little bit at least, the feeling so great and vibrant within her, she finds herself leaning closer to him — one hand braced on his chest while her nails grip onto his shirt before they slide to his neck, to grasp his curls. Her eyes lift up to meet his sea foam ones, continuing her drink, watching while he struggles with the feeling.
Rexanna doesn’t know what it’s like, having always been satisfied after. But it feels wrong, to attempt it in the moment. He is married, and she is engaged, after all.
She pulls from him then, covering the wound with a hand, the other brushing the blood from her lips as she smiles to him, feeling the crackle and fire within her shift toward something else, something bigger and she sighs contently. But Remi? She leans to him then, using the one hand that covers his own, to see what it is he would like in return with a small playful tug — wondering if it borders on the edges of not okay.
Still, she tempts fate.
Carefully and gently, the Penumbra situated herself on the rock to fully face Remi, to see what he might do, what he might want.
your fall was not
an accident
you were chosen
for the damned
