WIP Wednesday✍️
Todays excerpt of 🌐7 Circles🌐 is from Chapter 7, Hint Hunting. POV is Klaus Calvaire, a half-incubus hiding the fact that he is also half-fae from the demons he lives among in Nexis. This clippet is following him feeding off the lust of one of these Nexan demons.
There are Sand Burrowers tunnelling beneath the rug, and this is Nexis, so that’s impossible. Klaus blinks. He looks away, screwing his eyes closed for a moment, then tries again. His black blazer, crumpled on the floor, is still swaying and shifting where he had discarded it on the rug’s surface, but the roiling, churning beneath the rug resolves itself into an ornate damask pattern of individually swaying sections with the added effect of the flickering candlelight flashing off of the brass thread in scattered, nonsensical sequences. When had he been so drunk on lust before? The back of his mind supplies the answer that he deliberately ignores as he scrutinises the garish pale blue and brass weave until it could never have been anything other than uncertain lighting and his own vertigo. The candles his meal lit to induce a sense of romance induces instead a sense of vague nausea and nostalgia. He shuts down that trickle of memory as surely as the first. The world sways as Klaus leans forward to collect his jacket, and the dainty demoness puts a hand between his shoulder blades. She’s drained of lust but the sticky, syrupy flavour of her still echoes in his senses, churning his stomach and ensuring he won't be able to drink anything resembling a white crème martini for months. Her tepid fingers slide up, past the small hairs of his neck to card through his hair, towards the stained and hidden tips of his pointed ears. Klaus catches those fingers, straightens, and turns to her in the same movement, and the room continues spinning after he stills, a whirling backdrop against the demoness’s pouting face. “You could stay, you know,” she offers demurely, talking as if she found him wrapped around her manicured fingers as surely as her gaudy rings. She moves her spoiled grasp to his arm, leaning coquettishly forward to place his limb in her cleavage and looking up at him from beneath her lashes. “Or am I only good company when you’re hungry?” You’re poor company even then. Klaus can’t tell her the truth, and neither can he take the chance a pretty lie will come out in a slurred Outlander accent, so instead he pulls her close and kisses her deeply with all the hate he can disguise as passion. She melts into his embrace, and he kisses her deeper, hates her more to block out yet another memory the night tries to conjure.
I love tender actions filled with acid~
Still working away at my big masquerade Chapters, they're going to be the last things I do on Googgle docs before switching over to something more ethical/secure. It's slow-going but I'm excited nonetheless. Hope you're all doing well!
