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KALT
He was her dark fairytale She was his twisted fantasy
He maintained the piercing glare down at the tiny woman, his jaw feathering, until a smirk overtook his scowl. He couldn’t help it. While he was definitely soured by losing the fight, it was impossible to stop the creeping pride he felt towards Ashe. “Bullshit,” he scoffed, turning to face her, his eyes falling to where his blade had cut her open. “Regardless of who won, I drew first blood. Let the record show that much.” Kalt then reached out quickly to grab her arm and pull her into his body, caging her between the wall and him. She could move if she really wanted to, but that wasn’t the point. He dipped low to claim her lips, ignoring the searing pain that shot through his side, ignoring the bloodloss he was definitely starting to feel. A knife slipped into his hand, sharp enough to slice apart a falling hair, and he would then part from her just enough to look her in the eye. The blade raised, and she would feel cold steel against the skin of her cheek. “Don’t get cocky, pet,” he whispered tauntingly. His heart was racing in his chest, and he wasn’t sure whether the lust was caused by blood or by her. How dangerously close the two were… And together They made magic |
