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 Begging For Art [closed][m]
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TALON MONTAGUE
Dragonologist
** Pureblood Wizard | AGE: 28 | 40 POSTS
Wand 4

10" Blackthorn, Dragon Heartstring
NET WORTH: 1415 ʛ
Hogwarts Alumni (Ravenclaw) alternative text
Oct 4 2017, 02:40 PM
the very thought of you

has my legs spread apart

like an easel with a canvas

begging for art

-rupi kaur

Talon descended the steps to the spiral staircase, his cane guiding him further downward with each footfall. He could feel the temperature of the Louvre rising gently as he neared the landing. Museums and their love of heat. He couldn’t begrudge them for it, certainly a good decision in terms of the art.

But as a patron, he always felt that gradual warmth climbing up his skin first. Now more than ever as sensation was one of his keenest senses. He’d have to remove his jacket once time permitted. The coat check was long gone but it was nothing to carry it.

Feeling the tug of his guidance charm, he walked part out of sheer recall. Long before his accident, he’d remembered the route to his beloved exhibits. His visits had been frequent and long, often spending entire days studying one piece and listening to the impersonal voice of the recording tell him of the artist. Time had wrought improvements, fortunately.

The voices were richer and more spirited in telling of the art and its inception, giving more depth and detail than before. If he wished, Talon could follow an actual museum guide but that was tiresome as he often knew more than they did. Which good manners dictated that he did not interject and so he had to suffer in relative, frustrated silence as he heard the Mona Lisa’s beginnings hacked to pieces.

No, he much preferred to be alone. While others might have taken issue with it, he was in many ways his favorite company.

Talon neared one of his favorite sculptures.

Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss.

He could no longer see the white marble but that was fine. His mind’s eye had rendered this one so easily forever in the archives of things he treasured. He could recall it in painstaking detail. He had walked around it so many times, hungry blue stealing even the smallest of features for later inspiration.

It was exquisite from all angles. A true masterpiece in every sense of the word. From the newly-woken Psyche to her tender, lover bending over her with wings splayed. The vase on its side, the sheets where she had only just wrinkled them. The resplendent curve of thigh and hip.

Talon found a seat and sank into the voice that rose from silent depths to tell him of Cupid’s kiss.

The answer is always no.
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NET WORTH: 70 ʛ
Hogwarts Alumni (Gryffindor) alternative text
Oct 5 2017, 09:58 PM
The human body was such a glorious thing.

It was incredible how it healed itself, even when dents marred the skin and cuts spilled life. It was beautiful in its' fragility, some things simply incapable of being fixed even by magic. It was stunning in process and in function, voluntary and involuntary alike.

But for Lilith Blake, it was most exquisite in form. How did their bodies know to cover a stark skeleton with fleshy curves sent straight from some higher being? What artistic genes allowed for dimples in mouth-watering places and such a mixture of hard and soft that allowed humans to fit together like puzzle pieces?

It was part of why she loved fashion so much. How might she accentuate the human form in a way that drew the eye to the most glorious of places? To make men stand a little taller; women to walk with more sensuality? Sometimes that required a lot of fabric - other times, hardly any at all.

The Romanticism movement inspired her in every way; her designs and needs alike. How was it that these artists and sculptors knew to focus on details of certain things but leave others plain? The sheet that just barely upheld Psyche's modesty spilled in such a lifelike way, giving movement. Lilith could hold her breath, waiting for Cupid to dip just a second lower, or perhaps, be pulling away from an embrace. The tension and swell of their bodies had such precision, but Cupid's wings were only lined just enough to make it clear what they were supposed to be. The eyes were drawn to the emotion on their faces, the places their hands found one another, and the lovely sway of her body.

People came and went, but Lilith sat there for hours with her sketchbook, waiting for something to come out just right. For something to look as if gods and goddesses themselves touched her paper.

And then he came.

Lilith had glanced up for a split second to mime the draping of Psyche's sheet and there he was. It was as if her body hadn't broken the habit of seeking him out in her surroundings, leaving her to blink just to make sure she hadn't spent too much time on stark white vellum.

But no. Talon Montague in the flesh moved into the statue's space and took a seat, just mere marble separating them. For a moment, Lilith just observed. Her pulse rang in her ears as she took in the things that hadn't changed - that glorious curve of his jaw; the equally sculpted cheekbones - and the ones that had. The shades were new; she wondered why he wore them.

So was the cane.

A delectable shiver raced up her spine as she found herself sliding her things back into her bag, her feet quick and light as she made her way over to him. It fell to the side as she murmured his name; sank into him. Space had never been an issue between them before.

As if years had not passed, Lilith lowered her mouth to his for a little taste. Just a small one.

Then she beamed.

"I should have known we might find each other here one day."
i'm perfect; i'm always worth it; i deserve it, the way i work it.
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TALON MONTAGUE
Dragonologist
** Pureblood Wizard | AGE: 28 | 40 POSTS
Wand 4

10" Blackthorn, Dragon Heartstring
NET WORTH: 1415 ʛ
Hogwarts Alumni (Ravenclaw) alternative text
Oct 6 2017, 01:02 AM
His thoughts were like electricity made liquid, tangling in shocks over themselves and striking the tender lands of his thoughts with all the might of gods. Talon thought of Cupid and Psyche, wondered if he ever regretted all the trouble he went through for her. He wondered if she knew how many times over the world had given itself to him. Did she regret him? Regret swooning in his arms every time as though the first?

Rendered in beautifully carved marble, no one would ever know. Forever, Cupid and Psyche would have this moment. Siege or apocalypse, heartbreak or indifference, the world would always know their love in all of its splendor.

Talon caught the scrape of heels and shuffling papers before his senses put other, more vital pieces together. A distinct floral perfume wound circles around his senses, dragging something slumbering from his memories. The lush, full scent of orchids brought vivid flashes and it was the rhythm of his heart that answered.

The cadence stuttered as if in response to the warm weight in his lap and the mouth upon his. He knew her mouth better than he knew his own. Even in most hummingbird of tastes, Talon’s soul knew with conviction that it was Lilith.

Her voice was his vindication. He could hear the smile in it, knew how the corners of her mouth tilted just so in her delight.

As if Cupid himself ran the gilded tip of a iron arrow down his spine, Talon’s sense seeped in. But barely.

“I think you found me, which would make you Cupid. And that would most definitely explain a lot.”

Fingers loosened themselves from the Nemean of his cane, lifting to instinctively find the mane that had always tumbled in magnificent cascades down her back. Breath he hadn’t known he was holding escaped as digits tangled in silk.

“I’m afraid its been far too long for me to feign expertise with the art presently in my lap. To what do I owe the honor of having all of it in my hands, so suddenly?”

Rue washed itself over his skin; Talon knew better to ask those questions, questions he didn’t and had never wanted the answer to. But even so, the words always stumbled from his tongue as a beguiled youth might under the hard gaze of a goddess.

Unable to help himself, unable to summon the desire to, Talon allowed himself to be swallowed in her warmth and the promise of so many secret orchids.

His mouth settled on the gentle dip where her collarbones met. If he lingered, he would taste the honey he so longed for and he would be lost. Talon moved just enough to only allow his breath to wed his worship to the corporeal.

“You do know that this is not the manner in which you and I should greet one another.”

Perhaps that slip of his innermost thoughts was to convince himself more than her.

The answer is always no.
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NET WORTH: 70 ʛ
Hogwarts Alumni (Gryffindor) alternative text
Oct 6 2017, 02:09 AM
To be completely honest, Lilith hadn't particularly thought about what Talon might do when he met her again. Their relationship had been intense in every way - that the highs were the best moments of her life outside of memories with Jules, and the lows still made her cringe. Still hurt if she pressed too hard. There were so many things that didn't work between them - and so many things that did.

She supposed she would be ready to move on from those good things when she stopped feeling a rush upon seeing him. Today was not that day.

If she had stopped to think about the potential downfalls to sliding into the lap of an ex she hadn't seen a for more than a couple years, however, Lilith might have heard a far wiser voice cautioning her that she'd end up on the floor; that she'd be pushed away.

Talon did none of these things.

Some deep, needy part of her all but purred as his fingers found her hair; her own hands resting on his chest and fighting the temptation to curve around shoulder and neck alike. As much as she adored thoroughly curling herself around him, she didn't want anyone interrupting when she got a bit too carried away (as she oft did). He could certainly keep petting her though - she wouldn't protest.

"Does it? I believe Raphael painted Psyche on Cupid's thighs instead - shall we switch places?" It was with regret that Lilith internalized his next question, wondering why she was there. It seemed appropriate to quote another piece of speculation given about this sculpture before them and the potential mythology behind it - easier to use that than to say the words that felt far too vulnerable in stark daylight.

"Cupid takes Psyche from Virtue and shackles her in adamantine chains." She murmured, "I have rarely fit better anywhere than in your hands and your lap."

Lilith's pulse beat a happy tune as his mouth found just below her throat, his breath upon her skin teasing a subtle shiver up her spine. This - this is what she compared everyone else to; what she sought elsewhere. It was a mere touch and yet, blood pumped frantically through her veins as if trying to please him.

She felt alive.

"Hmm." The amusement was clear in her voice as she teased a hand up to his face, thumb brushing along a fine cheekbone. "I can't think of a better way, can you?"

Was she truly supposed to sit a respectable distance away, making small talk and feigning interest in the weather? Was she supposed to try to keep her skin from reaching out to him; her heart from bouncing in ecstasy? Excitement thrilled through her nerve endings just from looking at him - so why in the world would she deprive herself?

It just simply wasn't done.

"Or perhaps you mean the manner in which I greeted you was too brief? That's easily amendable, cariño."
i'm perfect; i'm always worth it; i deserve it, the way i work it.
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TALON MONTAGUE
Dragonologist
** Pureblood Wizard | AGE: 28 | 40 POSTS
Wand 4

10" Blackthorn, Dragon Heartstring
NET WORTH: 1415 ʛ
Hogwarts Alumni (Ravenclaw) alternative text
Oct 6 2017, 09:12 PM
Adamantine chains.

Talon heard the words drip from her lips like so much nectar, drawing him closer and closer like a heartsick winged thing. He knew that words were just words but Lilith had always spun pale, flaxen weeds into pure gold with her tongue. At one point in his life, he would have been happy to forever wear the gossamer robes she found befitting of an emperor.

But he knew all too well what came after.

She spoke to him in art and masterpiece because they both knew that he was susceptible to it. In that masterfully selected prose, he could be undone. She would unravel him like so much thread around her fingers, pulling and pulling until he was in shambles. How many times had that happened?

How many times had he let her?

Even when all of his cleverness and wit took a sullen backseat, aware and too helpless to derail her, he couldn’t help but lean into her touch. He turned his head just enough to have that thumb trail from his cheekbone to his mouth. Despite every ounce of his sense, he kissed it ruefully. Though, Talon couldn’t help but notice that he could only taste her.

“I can think of several ways that are better, but not necessarily conducive to the fine arts. Or public settings.”

The sounds of the world around them remained at bay, drowned out by her voice and his heartbeat in that timeless dance they loved to do with one another. He rested his head against her shoulder, wondering how it was that he always felt at liberty to be flush against her.

As if she would always be his.

His hands freed themselves from her hair, wrapped around her in the way he had so many times over. They’d sat just like this before. If one could peel back the translucent layers of the years past, they’d see the pair as they were now. Entwined and oblivious to everything and everyone.

The world might have ended right then without a single atom of their being to notice.

“Is there a boyfriend I need to be aware of?” He asked finally, resolving to not feel anything at her answer. It was the only thing that he’d ever had muted success with – pretending that he didn’t care. A smaller part of him crumbled at the silence in anticipation of the answer.

Talon knew his greed would get the best of him one day. But it was this in mind that he kissed her again, this time his lips leaving their invisible invitation on her shoulder.

The answer is always no.
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Wand 6

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NET WORTH: 70 ʛ
Hogwarts Alumni (Gryffindor) alternative text
Oct 7 2017, 08:37 PM
It was easily as if nothing had ever changed between them - as if she was her teenaged self again, incapable of keeping her hands off her boyfriend as he enchanted her with all the stories of these sculptures. That was, of course, before it became one of their sources of tension.

Lilith wasn't a teenager any longer; wasn't just barely hitting adulthood as a twenty-year-old. She wasn't blind to the problems that sat so heavily between them that it ruined what they had; wasn't forgiving of some of the stances neither of them would budge on. Still, she could ignore that in light of enjoying the unexpected response right before her.

She always felt best whilst living moment to moment.

His assertion that she could have greeted him in more delectable ways made her grin with no small sense of mischievousness, the feel of his lips lingering against the pad of her thumb a secondary delight to the invitation.

"Au contraire, I believe public settings and the fine arts have always meshed beautifully for us in all sorts of manners." If he was that amendable to her, then the tiny amount of restraint needn't be there. Her voice dropped, initiating a more private moment between them in memory.

"In fact, I distinctly remember a raincoat and that bench over there..."

However, Lilith was more than a little content to relax into this spontaneous embrace. Sooty lashes fluttered to rest on her cheeks as he settled against her shoulder; she gave in to traveling caresses, curling her torso snug against him so that their hearts might beat in tandem.

If only it could be this easy all the time.

Lilith's eyes opened when Talon spoke again, asking if there was another man in the picture. He said it in such an even tone, but she knew better. Even as his lips found her skin again, Lilith knew the answer mattered.

Her back yielded beautifully as she leaned back, just enough to find his face again with her fingertips. Her skin was so stark against his - a clash of stunning gold against something so pure.

Nails drew down to rest against his throat, catching on his bottom lip in their adventures. Once again she bowed forward to share his breath, just the whisper of her balm stealing against his mouth.

"No." No - she hadn't had much use for those lately. Being exclusive wasn't a conversation she'd entertained in a while, knowing that more often than not the men she was found would be good regardless if she were or not. Belonging to one person - it just didn't seem like she was built for that. There was a bit of a sparkle in her eye as she considered him, repressing a smile as best as she could.

"Do I have another woman I should be watching for?" Lilith didn't particularly care. She asked for the principle of the thing, but the truth was this: that woman would only be standing where she had stood. Touching what she had touched. Loving what she had loved.

"Kiss me." She whispered, gaze trained on him as she waited to see whether or not he would acquiesce.
i'm perfect; i'm always worth it; i deserve it, the way i work it.
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TALON MONTAGUE
Dragonologist
** Pureblood Wizard | AGE: 28 | 40 POSTS
Wand 4

10" Blackthorn, Dragon Heartstring
NET WORTH: 1415 ʛ
Hogwarts Alumni (Ravenclaw) alternative text
Oct 12 2017, 01:21 AM
The memories dovetailed in his mind at her prompting, calling it to come hither with just a fragment. Come hither it did. Like ghosts, they rose in all their glory. Each vivid detail was as fresh as the day they’d christened the Louvre. It was, by far, one of the most stupid, reckless stunts of his youth.

But he could smell the rain in her hair even now. He remembered the silence in the museum, most having long gone home to seek shelter before the rain was too terrible. They’d sat, wrapped in his raincoat. For all intents, they seemed but one of those obnoxious pairs that couldn’t bear to be parted – not even in sitting side by side.

His fingers had crept up the cool skin of her bare thighs, whispering past a skirt that had little purpose beyond a veil for their remaining shreds of modesty. Talon remembered how she’d arched back into him, her head falling to his shoulder. The words he’d spoken were the things one only said intertwined in their lover, unadorned save for the first caresses of dawn.

With Cupid and Psyche before them, he’d coaxed her toward the land of the gods. One delicate stroke at a time.

A knowing shudder ran the length of his body as the memories fell away at her answer. How one measly, common word could sound so beautiful was truly beyond any means of comprehension that Talon had. He hadn’t realized what hinged on her answer, how easily he’d started to wind himself around her every word.

“No,” He repeated after her, his voice a shadow of itself.

He leant toward her, a reluctant smile tugging at him. She knew the answer and regardless of what it was, she was humoring him. Lilith had never cared who came before her or after her. She knew that it would only ever be her.

No,” He whispered, finally. He found the curve of her face again, taking a leisurely stroll along the skin he could discover on the way.

There were no more answers to give.

Fingers guided her toward him, his mouth taking hers in that timeless way. He could taste the beginnings of time on her lips. He could taste the end. Everything in the world that he had ever wanted could be learned from her mouth beneath his.

Talon’s other hand reached for her hair, tangling in it to keep her with him. With a gentle enticement, he tasted past her parted lips and something in him came alive after sleeping for so long.

When he pulled away, he could do little to still his erratic breaths. His forehead met hers as his eyes fluttered shut in an effort to gather sense once more.

“What do you do to me, Lilith Blake?”

The answer is always no.
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Hogwarts Alumni (Gryffindor) alternative text
Oct 13 2017, 10:42 PM
Once upon a time, Lilith might have worried that her answer to his question would determine how he might treat her. Their on again, off again relationship had been vivid and igneous in all the best ways - and all the worst. She had lived in perpetual fear of being rejected... until one day she realized that he wouldn't.

Not like this.

The things that they had fought over - and their differences - had often felt like dismissals themselves. But his body, warm against her own, shared the stirrings of the language they spoke best. Of the connection between them that never went away no matter how hurt, defensive, or resigned she had grown.

The years that passed were long, but there were pieces of him she found still entangled within her. Pressed up against him as she was, Lilith knew relief when she felt it.

It was mirrored only in the tumble of awareness now directed only toward him; no woman would be yanking her back by her hair and cutting them off too soon.

"Good." Lilith voiced for both of them, satisfaction heavy and blatant in her whisper. She simply watched him as he made his way back to her, wondering briefly if he too observed her behind those shades. Why hadn't he taken them off?

Her questions were lost to the sigh of his lips finding hers, fully content in the fact she'd merely had to ask. It was here that her greeting was accomplished properly; without frozen surprise but with the knowledge of each other that sat so heavily in her heart.

At first, Lilith was good: she stayed still on his lap even as her mouth thrived underneath him; as her tongue blossomed with the taste of ambrosia. But as Talon's hands held her to him, she took it as permission.

Her own fingers delved beneath fabric to find the places his skin ran the hottest, her body shifting as if she might be able to get even just infinitesimally closer. Even in giving her just this much, he set her aflame. Her blood rushed through her veins in an exciting march, fervor taking over with every thump of her heart.

This was the feeling she chased; the reason she was still in this world.

When Talon finally pulled back, Lilith had to swallow a sound of disappointment. It wasn't enough - but then again, she was ravenous in most aspects of her life. There were few things that she found to be enough. Touching Talon would never be one of them.

Still, he didn't go far. Their breath still mingled as he rested their foreheads together. Had anyone been in the nook with them, Lilith wouldn't have known. She was too consumed with every place they connected - and the words that were coming.

“What do you do to me, Lilith Blake?”

She said nothing as she reluctantly pulled her fingers back from their heat-seeking adventures, resting them more appropriately around his shoulders. It was only a fragmented understanding that came from his question, little phrases of his poetic tongue floating through her memories.

And the harsher ones.

"Everything." She just said simply, her thumb caressing the tension he carried at the back of his neck.
i'm perfect; i'm always worth it; i deserve it, the way i work it.
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TALON MONTAGUE
Dragonologist
** Pureblood Wizard | AGE: 28 | 40 POSTS
Wand 4

10" Blackthorn, Dragon Heartstring
NET WORTH: 1415 ʛ
Hogwarts Alumni (Ravenclaw) alternative text
Oct 15 2017, 02:41 AM
If she was the earth, he was the tide.

He always came back.

The minute connection of her hands on him was enough to keep him in place for the moment. It was enough to let his thoughts pool together so that he could form something more coherent. But only barely.

“You’re not wrong,” He said softly in turn.

And she wasn’t. They both knew that the way they knew oxygen was required to pass from one moment to the next alive or how the earth could simply end in a magnificent flare-up without a single moment’s warning. In fact, that was much how Talon felt in every minute he spent with Lilith.

He couldn’t breathe without her and yet, the fear of sudden catastrophe lingered like a heavy shadow over the sun.

Talon tried to concentrate on the touch at the back of his neck, realizing it did nothing for the tension making its way in a slow crawl down his spine. She hadn’t mentioned the accident and while it was a rapidfire spread throughout his social circles, when they’d broken up – she’d simply stopped being in that circle.

It wasn’t as if he would call to update her on such a misfortune. How could a conversation such as that actually go?

Hey, how are you? That runway was fantastic. No, not the recent one. The one a few months ago, before I was permanently blinded. Oh! You didn’t hear about that…

Feelings of deeply embedded disgust, regret, and shame reared their vicious presence like a many-headed hydra. It wouldn’t suffice for him to have a normal sense of self-consciousness, of course. His inner saboteurs were volatile, immortal beasts with all the appendages of a mythological centipede.

Turning his head away, he reached up to remove his shades.

Pain like this, Talon knew well enough, was best done all at once. Sometimes you wasted away under the onslaught, sometimes you didn’t.

So far, he hadn’t. What was one more time of recounting the most painful event of his young life thus far?

Folding his glasses into his palm, he raised his head to stare impassively away from her at nothing. Nothing at all. Naturally, he could barely discern the differences in light but not by much. No color, no tints, no shades. Hardly any shapes to be had either.

But as a boy, Talon’s granddad had gone blind. Old age, that fickle creature. His eyes, like Talon’s father’s and Talon’s, were the very same shade of oceanic blue. Or had been. When he’d gone blind, they dulled to the color of ice.

He imagined that’s what his own looked like.

“I’m confident I would know you even on my death bed, half for this world and half for the other. So, perhaps you’re the exception however, I gather by your otherwise unbothered demeanor that Julian didn’t tell you about the accident.”

The answer is always no.
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NET WORTH: 70 ʛ
Hogwarts Alumni (Gryffindor) alternative text
Oct 18 2017, 08:30 PM
He was so...quiet.

This wasn't a new thing. Lilith was often content to bask in the warmth created by that feeling of home in his arms. Don't get her wrong - she knew how to get him started. But for now, this was enough. It didn't matter that the sense of home in his lap felt more like the comfort of being in a friend's house than the way she felt when she went home to abuelita. It didn't feel like the ease in which she threw off her shoes and her clothes and sometimes men upon entering her place with Jules. Once upon a time, it'd been different. Every fight, every breakup, and all the years between them put a wedge there to change the flavor though. Enough of one that, even if he were home, she still felt she had to knock.

Luckily she was the queen of focusing only on what she wanted to feel; wanted to know.

So when Talon moved to take off his shades, she figured he was merely doing it so they could get used to the light. All the white marble around made things quite bright in here, and she certainly wouldn't want to have to blink away spots when she was trying to look at herself. When he still didn't look at her, Lilith prepared to exhale a teasing sigh, ready to coax his attention back.

And then he started speaking.

"...Julian didn’t tell you about the accident."

The accident. Those two little words seemed to echo in her mind, falling down a well that was surging up with panic. What accident? What happened? His lap felt just fine. She'd watched him walk in. His hands felt delicious against her, so they weren't gone or broken. His mouth tasted as it always did, tongue intact. What...

The shades. The cane.

Slowly, carefully, Lilith lifted gentle fingers back to his face to direct it toward her. Her heart caught in her throat as she looked where brilliant shards of the sea used to be, the unfairness of it all hitting her in one, violent crash. Those eyes had made her heart race in anticipation as they had darkened, eying her with such clear intent. They'd iced over as they ripped her heart to pieces, teaching her understanding that certain places of their lives would never mesh. Her childhood. His parents. His privilege. Her neediness. Her insecurities.

Now they were just frozen. Never to see her again. Never to watch her dance for him or rake over the outfits she wore to make his blood boil. Never to see the dragons he loved so much or his own artwork. She felt sick, a childish part of her wanting to go scream at the healers at St. Mungo's for not healing him. Wasn't that the whole point of magic? To do the unimaginable?

"No." She said, once she was positive her voice would be even. Her voice wasn't gentle or sympathetic; it did not waver with the shock or tears he might have expected from her. Her heart hurt; it truly did. She knew why Jules hadn't told her. She would have come running back. She would have tried to help him, and he would have hated her for it. The way that he chose to show her made that very clear. She couldn't give him any of those emotions.

"Do you still love my perfume? Fate clearly told me to wear your favorite today." Lilith leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear, "Do you still react to my voice, to these inflections that you pull out of me?"

She hummed, just turning her head until her lips found the edge of his mouth, tasting the seam of his lips, "You still taste like ambrosia."

Unsatisfied that he had stopped touching her, Lilith claimed his hand to guide it back to her; trailing his fingers down the hot skin of her throat, lingering, but ultimately leading his palm to her sternum. So he could feel the happy, skipping thrum of her heart.

"You've always seen more of me than what your eyes could tell you anyways."

It was what it was; he had always been strong enough to handle whatever life threw at him.

Her included.
i'm perfect; i'm always worth it; i deserve it, the way i work it.
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