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DAII -- this fire
This Fire Burns for You
"Who is tha', boyo?"
"New lady a' th' Buckin' Mare?"
"Just ignore them."
His hand was so gentle in mine; so deceitfully tender. The markings seethed like the venom of a cobra and I could smell the fire in his heart.
"This town is a hellhole."
"We will leave in the morning, when it is safe."
His hand splayed over the door, seeming to spread out to encompass the entirety of its space, so there was no point that I could touch that was not alight.
"Do you think I would let harm come to you?" he growled, voice low, irate, on-edge. The energy had wormed into his spine; I knew him too well.
"No. But I fear that you may bring harm to those whom would merely snatch a penny from my pocket. Fenris, please; I am exhausted. Would you really let your Lady remain in such an unpleasant state?"
"No you would not, I can see it."
With all the tenderness of a wild boar I pushed past Fenris and into our hovel of a guest room. The bed was narrow; large enough for
i dreamt of love.
I dreamt I loved you.
Locked up in this place, where clouds cover mouths and devils hide in the water, I feel I have lost my human. The telephone is hidden, those evil ones in snow took them and buried them in control and iron bars.
You are all I have to dream of. Your hair smells like grass and leaves; the spring air. Freedom. You know the world; you've seen the way the butterflies kiss, the way birds brush feathers and nuzzle their young.
I do love you.
The women in snow guide me, like I'm a cripple, out to the quaint, supervised sitting arena. We will not get time; emotions are not allowed here, darling. Dearest.
You enter like you own this nest of silent desperation; you wave them away like flies, like locusts. You clasp my hands, my cold hands; too frozen from the ladies in snow.
"I saw a baby rabbit today, just outside."
"White; pure white." Your smile is so gentle, so fond. I touch your lips, wanting to take some of your happiness for my own, keep it hidden
it was a w a t e r f a l l.
We all rushed outside, sandals flooding with the sharp sting of rainwater, flip-flops soaring to the curb, unwanted.
The rain blocked out the sun && it let itself vanish, evaporating like a ghost's whisper in the darkness.
A jig blasted from the stereo inside the pub. It blared freely out over the washed out road and in the wetness, in the release of Mother Nature's tears; we began to dance.
&& oh, how we danced.
Hands met, feet kicked, twirling spirits encased with flesh spinning rapidly in a pattern of wild, ecstatic abandon. Our eyes shone into the grayness, mocking its melancholy demeanor && making it smile with our torrid shenanigans.
&& then he caught me. Strong, ringed hands, gripping my waist, my soaking shirt, melting through the cheap cotton && polyester. His blood seared into my body, surging down into me, infecting.
I launched up onto my toes, frantic for the taste of his mouth, his curved smile, wanted to make it mine. I tossed my arms thoughtlessly around his neck,
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More