americanvvitch | (Reply)

the terrible fire of old regret is honey on my tongue

I feel it in my blood
In the fire and the flood
The beast that can't be killed
Even now you mark my steps
Lovely bitter water
All the days of our delights are poison in my veins
I know I shouldn't love you
I know

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c h a r l o t t e l e n o r e a t t i c u s

From:

devildo

One day, Alastor thought, Lotte would hold onto that breath of fire and light into him. When it came, it would be delightful - and the more time passed without it, the more delicious when it came. He could spend years wondering when the moment would come, when her voice would truly raise, when her ire would stay in her voice instead of blowing itself out on a sharp release of breath.

Still crouched, he folded himself forward to peer as far into the cellar as he could, one last time, before standing. Could she have really gotten down there before he smote her, if he'd posed any threat that first night? He wondered. It would have amused him to see her try.

Unfurling himself from the ground, he crossed back to the bed and sat on its end, without showing any signs of the intent to rest. "No joke, didn't I say?" His palms spread in an exaggerated show of honesty. "I'm sure you were fearsome. I'd love to see you cut one down. Say, maybe we can arrange that."

Unlikely, of course, and a joke. He smiled at her and peeled his glasses from his face with his free hand, to rub the glass on the bedspread and clear some of the lingering dust from the road. "Not against the queen, of course. Just someone looking to make trouble. You wouldn't believe the types out there."