LILY
oh, cover your crystal eyes
and let your colors bleed and blend with mine
and let your colors bleed and blend with mine
“You might be surprised at my stamina,” she retorts with an little hmph at the end, a little bit of an impetuous (no, they call grown women defiant now, not bratty), defiant teasing implying that she’d taken offense to his words. It’s not true, of course, but Lily is quite eager to coax more pretty words from him, to make him play the part of the rascally gentleman, at least while he’s around her.
But she’s playing with another kind of fire entirely; not the red hot ones she’s used to handling, no. The cold, ice-blue ones from the lower circles of Hell. Her breath hitches ever so slightly as his lips graze her neck, heart shot through with both adrenaline and dopamine. Her eyes flutter shut for a moment as her neck yields under his mouth, stretching to give
“Enlighten me,” she demands softly, before pulling herself away from their intimate embrace and stepping back to twirl under his arm again. And when she’s face-to-face with the devil again, one of her eyebrows arches while a corner of her mouth twists upward into an enchantingly devious smirk.
