|
|
|
|
 |
||||
|
Charcoal by Kyo [Reviews - 1] 
It's nice and quiet in this room, among the white sheets and curtains, it's almost warm as well. A faint breeze teases at the skin of your arm, which sticks out from the covers. Instantly it feels like you've been dunked in icy water and you hurredly pull the white limb close to your body. He should be here... but he isnt. He's out feeding so he can feed you. But he should still be here while you are awake, a rartiy nowadays... so often do you walk in the lands of the deathlike sleep that worries all of your family. The sleep annoys you. You know you had a friend visit you, you cant remember which one though, the world to you was blurred and all you got was a sence of greeness and of worry. You opened you mouth to reasure your friend and the sleep dragged you down without letting you make a sound It's not fair... why isnt he here? The roof of the cavern spirals and blurrs, you slide your eyes shut against it, feeling a sence of vertigo even though you are lying down. Sometimes you wonder if he really does love you like he says he does. He hurt you so bad when you first meet, hurt you worse when you meet again. But you taught him a lesson didnt you? You nearly killed him... then tried to kill yourself when you realised that you loved him. You think yourself pathetic for falling into such a trap. But it's a worthy trap. It's gotten you this far, lying on a large soft bed unable to move because of the pain in your back. He hasnt touched you since the swell began to show... you know it's for a good reason but you still have horrible thoughts.... maybe now that he has what every sire wants he will not desire you any more... Inside you there is a flutter and then a searing pain. How could something so painful be derived from something that brought you so much pleasure. It seemed like an eternal pleasure when the child was concieved, on and on, always a thick hardness breaching you and claiming you again and again... on and on and on... for weeks in fact. Even though you dont like to admit it, you love it when he makes love to you. Slow languid thrusts and hands caressing over your skin. So sweet that it almost brings tears to your eyes when he takes you that way. Slow and deep, never rushing, sharing blissful kisses. You always feel loved and wanted after making love like that.. Or hot stabbing thrusts, claws digging in and voices raised loudly in extasy. Hard and harder, gashes and welts left onour hips, skin bruising and giving it all back and you move ferally against the other. Hard and large, almost too large for your smaller body and he makes sure you dont forget that. You feel desired and powerfull when he takes you hard. Another fluttering movement and another sense of being torn. When you were a child you loved to draw on the white marbled walls of the caves you lived in.. always with charcoal, pictures that were only lines and shadows. That's what his eyes reminded you of... shadows made with charcoal... and you wanted to know him so badly in those first few moments when you meet. Then he threw a rock at you and made blood slide down your face... you didnt like him then... you hated him... hated him because he hated you for being abnormal. Hated him because you still, deep down, wanted to be his friend. Another flutter and this time it's like the child is trying to break free, you feel the rasp of claws inside you and a sound, the first in many days escapes your throat and spirals into the empty space of the room. There are footsteps in the hallnow... a door opening and he enters, charcoal eyes lighting upon you with concern. He sits down on the bed, rocking you with the motion and runs a hand over the ungainly swell of your stomach. For once it doesnt stop the pain and you whimper. Your own hand comes up to rest on his, taking almost leeching the heat from his recent feeding from his skin with the chill of your own flesh. Your hand looks so small against his now, all the extra flesh gone, even though you feed well... you've still.... shrunk.... gotten smaller... you were like a doll before... now you are even more so. Your eyes seem larger, almost vivid in the whiteness of hte sheets and your skin.. almost... they are faded with tiredness. His eyes darken in fear.... his hand smooths again over the pained spot and you feel a push at your mind Sleep You resist. You are stronger, were always stronger, faster and more powerful before this happened. Hands carressing your face suprise you and you stare up at your father. It's too soon. You still have two more months. You scream traitor as your father sends you spiriling down into a endless darkness. > Your pale aqua eyes open again, the world seems strangly brighter. There is movement in your arms, and your tired eyes meet eyes that have yet to tire, new to the world and taking in all that there is to see. Charcoal eyes. Beautiful shadows on a pale marble wall. Your son... So tiny and perfect as he mewls and feeds for the first time... a flush of rose across tiny cheeks ruining the marble affect. There is a burning behind your eyes and you will it away. You never cry.. Never have... Never will... Tears are weakness... A hand smooths your hair back from your forhead and you look up into a larger pair of charcoal eyes.. and the burning is back. "Why do we name him" he asks... > "What do we name him?" Hands stroked down white hair and caressed the back of the tiny father who lay in the sires arms. Ghita looked at his child then up at him mate. "Charcoal" Raven blinked and opened his mouth then shut it at the glare he recieved. "Charcoal it is" |
|||
