He is very careful with her.
Not the teeth. Not the eyes. Not the way the air seems to bend around him, humming faintly like something alive.
His gloved hand extends toward her, palm up, fingers relaxed. An invitation. He doesn’t rush her. He simply waits, His bright yellow firey eyes steady and unblinking.
The room is quiet. Lit by a soft glow she can’t quite place. Theres no lamp, no candle, just a warm floating light.
Slowly she lifts her hand.
When her fingers settle into his palm, he exhales. Not a breath something deeper.
He lifts her hand bringing her knuckles toward his lips. He doesn’t kiss her right away.
Instead, he watches her. He’s studying every flicker of uncertainty, every shallow breath, every tiny tremor.
“I’ve been waiting.” he says softly.
His voice is calm. Warm. Familiar in a way that makes her chest tighten, There is no hunger in his tone. Just patience.
When she cups his cheek, stroking it gently with her thumb,
His eyes flick down to her hand, then back up to her face.
For one long, breathless moment, the world seems to hold itself like she has crossed a line without realizing it.
A low, chutting purr vibrates in his chest not sharp, not predatory.
It rolls through him slowly, deliberately, like something ancient. His eyelids lower, lashes casting shadows over fire-bright eyes, and he leans just slightly into her touch.
Almost like he's rewarding her.
She listens to the sound, warmth blooming low in her stomach, something deep inside her loosening. She doesn’t notice how intentional this is.
He brings her wrist to his mouth, lips brushing her skin so lightly. His breath ghosts over her pulse, warm and steady, and when he kisses her there it is like a promise.
Not enough to hurt. Just enough to make her gasp.When she tenses, he stops. When she hesitates, he waits. His thumb strokes slow, reassuring circles against the back of her hand, grounding her, He murmurs something soft meant only for her ears and the fear replaced by something sweeter.He inhales deeply, as if drawing her into himself, and something stirs inside her in response. Longing, warmth. The hope of being seen and cherished for.
She lifts her other hand to his hair.
It’s coarse beneath her fingers, tangled and bright, the color of embers. She gently combs through it, careful, instinctively tender.
She doesn’t notice the way his eyes narrow.
Doesn’t notice the subtle shift in the air, the way the light seems to dim, deepen. The way his purr changes lower now, heavier, threaded with something far less gentle....
A/N : ahhhhhh Im sorry this took so long to come out. I got busy with character studying pennywise. This also almost didn't get written because someone close to me gave me a hard time about making a pennywise x reader basically just shitting on my idea. Telling me how it wouldnt work because pennywise this pennywise that. But I got my confidence back and now I'm locked tf in chat! Im going to make this book happen
annaxmalina
germansingergirl
2087
janainaart
