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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devildo

Alastor leveled a challenging look on Lotte. Did the prospect of sleep bother him? Not really, he was more interested in the degree to which she meant to keep good on her threat. He was on the bed, technically near to position, but he wondered what she thought she could do to make him relent and take the rest his body was clamoring for.

"You have," he agreed, ignoring her second comment in reply, though not at all in mind.

"They were better off in my clutches." She might think it posturing, but it wasn't. This was his true belief, and he smiled around the cigarette between his lips, blowing out another puff of smoke that intensified the haze in the air. "You must think I'm evil," he said. "Demon does imply it, doesn't it?" That it did, but only to those who didn't know any better, those who were still alive. "I should say you're wrong, but I won't. You're free to think it. I've been nothing but rational and reasonable, in life or otherwise."

And if humans were not so intent on maligning one another, there would have been no need for him. Maybe that would have been better, on the whole. Maybe he would still be home and alive, or maybe he would have gone on to be with his mother, if he chanced to die. But they were, and he didn't. He longed to tell Lotte the whole story, it bubbled in his gut and he wondered if this was a true desire, or some whim of the fleshiness of his body.