REXANNA
Oh, whatever he thought was to happen, he was very far off the mark. But she enjoys the game, and she had asked him to teach her. Only… she knows he didn’t plan so much in this way. So when she pouts and he feigns no offense, she can’t help but to smile lightly toward him, an incline of his head in response.
But when he asks what being married means, she lets him list it all out before her fanged smile grows a bit brighter. She sits up more fully, to hover over him briefly with that sickly sweet smile of hers as she tilts her head to him. “Mmm, I think it means we can do exactly that. Except…” She trails off a bit thoughtfully, aiming to swing a leg over him to keep him beneath her, hands reaching for his chest at first, before one trails to his neck and her thumb strokes his cheekbone. Her fingernails rake and trace gently at first before they grow stronger.
“Except it means that I will be holding the reigns.” She tells him, a sort of soft change to her previous demeanor. “It means that you will not fuck any of it up.” Her tone grows a bit more wicked, as her hands drift toward his chest, spreading out her hands in the shape of wings along his sternum. Maybe it’s a dark confession that she recalls his stories of his own wings, but she smirks as her hands alight in a sparkler in each palm, the heat from it aiming to burn his chest in the shape of her hands, a brand of wings for added measure of her new found darkness. A warning.
“It means that I will kill you.” She tells him, oddly calm, hands back to normal as she reaches to cup his face. “So don’t make me.”
But when he asks what being married means, she lets him list it all out before her fanged smile grows a bit brighter. She sits up more fully, to hover over him briefly with that sickly sweet smile of hers as she tilts her head to him. “Mmm, I think it means we can do exactly that. Except…” She trails off a bit thoughtfully, aiming to swing a leg over him to keep him beneath her, hands reaching for his chest at first, before one trails to his neck and her thumb strokes his cheekbone. Her fingernails rake and trace gently at first before they grow stronger.
“Except it means that I will be holding the reigns.” She tells him, a sort of soft change to her previous demeanor. “It means that you will not fuck any of it up.” Her tone grows a bit more wicked, as her hands drift toward his chest, spreading out her hands in the shape of wings along his sternum. Maybe it’s a dark confession that she recalls his stories of his own wings, but she smirks as her hands alight in a sparkler in each palm, the heat from it aiming to burn his chest in the shape of her hands, a brand of wings for added measure of her new found darkness. A warning.
“It means that I will kill you.” She tells him, oddly calm, hands back to normal as she reaches to cup his face. “So don’t make me.”
the penumbra
the moon is drunk with the sins of the sun.
& you stare, and wonder why
the universe never loved you back
