@gravenlight ･ " i dare you to try. " 𖦹
･･ flins ⥂ rerir . ᶠʳᵒᵐ , prompt .
it'd been enough already, to have felt the breadth of fate itself as his personal enemy, sharpened to the timbre of an old wretched voice that clung like an ichor to the shape of his mind ﹠. peered out in an endless amusement where rerir could only claw . fate, as the last obstacle to topple in all this .. time. and whatever amount of it slid away from his reach already, all light in a strange sky melting beyond much importance to note. it was enough, struggling like this — to have had it all bottle itself behind glass ﹠. wide yellow eyes was, perhaps, where a state of solidity finally began. how much time had he lost already ? .. certainly far more than what'd he'd spent now snarling after a man's light footsteps, snapping like a wolf at the vivid ends of his hair where those long coils drifted, grazing at the small of his back : yet he could think of nothing less than this here, existence now, these fickle nights where nothingness sharpened into touch ﹠. white hot pain, salted air in his every inhale and the acrid bite of smoke leaving him starved for the next. rerir hated him — hated, hated, and hungered so painfully for the next.
he didn't always want to retreat, to submit to obvious losses for the sake of tactical wisdom ﹠. preservation . truth soured at the back of his throat how fickle of a moment his bite seemed to matter at all to the man dangling rerir's heart between his thumb and forefinger, regarded like a burning bauble, held away like a trophy . it took time, such aggravating time to gather up the meager ends of himself on those nights of overzealousness when he'd tasted more of the light keeper's blade than the smoke of his flesh ( but time, what an endless, worthless well. ) it takes .. effort . power he'd squandered away in their encounter under the low moonlight, bled out dry for nothing but the refusal to leave — he wouldn't be accomplishing anything of substance here or now, like this, and rerir was nothing but a flimsy shape of himself forcing two wrists to extend ﹠. ten fingers to clamber and curl where the man, flins, retired to rest himself down atop rumpled bedsheets .
existence whittled itself to only this — to clawed hands that pawed, curled into fabric and bit into the spokes of the other man's ribs while he blinked over with those impassive large eyes, indiscernible, light beneath a fan of dark lashes . " you'll regret getting in my way , " rerir's voice strained to carve itself out, to tumble as roughly onto his chest as the weakened grip that'd palmed against flins's own pulsing heart . he wanted it even more than his own in such a moment of vicious hunger, an ego splintered ﹠. an anger pounding in tandem, feeling the man's blood pump, feeling the man's flame burn. " only when returned in kind to all that surrounds you will you even begin to understand .. ! " ; the light keeper's expression would shift only enough to accommodate the parting of his lips, then, the simplicity of an easy answer drifting beneath the harsh grind of a responding growl catching in the channel of rerir's throat . he hated him. he hungered for everything in him — his, and otherwise.
