Drabble || @honorablemayorcalley
A gasp, then a fist, and collision that went far below the skin. Striking a heart that didn’t exist before her and a soul before him. The one with black eyes and rattling fist. Fiery spirit and venomous vengeance. A human who owned a reaper’s devotion. Not till after a match had been lit and dropped between them. Both bodies and homes and lives set aflame.
Snow moved in, but John had yet to rebuild.
You could almost feel the soot drag along the polished wooden floor of this grand estate. Filled with so many memories the pair once escaped to with joy but you couldn’t enter any corner without that bitter taste striking the tongue. No regrets, guilt, or apologies. Just one truth; they would never change.
The fist was clutched between inked hands. Strong, larger than John’s, and staring back at the furious man Snow... felt some rage in his belly too. Calley’s arm was twisted and the false mortal drifted sideways till this limb stuck upright from behind and once pressed forward, John wound up on the floor. Snow let out labored breaths of exhilaration. His hazel eyes were lit up. Captured by his fallen lover. John had dragged him down once before, thrown him off of his feet, and the reaper could only let out an excited laugh from where he now knelt.
Baited breaths escaped the marred mortal as well who refused to whimper or confess. Just laid there with the remaining hand tense on the smooth dark ground. More pale than usual while it pressed so tight. Eager to rip Snow apart. Maybe not Snow... but some part of him, a part than no one else could reach. No one else had seen. No one living, anyway.
Snow turned the arm so it bent and the forearm could settle at the upper half of John’s back. A single groan left the politician. More of relief as the joints realigned and relaxed. Had Snow surprised John? Did the man truly believe for one fleeting second that the reaper would break his dominant arm? Something so vital to him, his lifestyle, and image. The knowledge that Snow almost had was enough for the reaper. Power was a toy both men batted back and forth between.
Weakness only knew Snow... and he couldn’t bear the seconds that had past, moments where John’s face was turned from him again.
Reaching down, he took hold of the human’s chin to angle it away from the ground. That’s when something else contrasted between the usual black and white. Red. John’s blood. Scathing eyes threatened to distract Snow from the very mortal feature smeared across his upper lip and pinked nose. Nothing could take the reaper from this. Both hands were still wrung against parts of John and the one on his chin strained the human’s neck just slightly for Snow to earn a better look. Stiff breaths pushed out of John’s lungs, a slight bubble of red leaked out, his lower body began to twist into proper alignment beneath Snow’s hips.
Snow allowed this and used the refined angle to get closer to the floor and John. Till he could kiss his bleeding lover. John’s spare hand curled tight into his hair, punishing, but their tongues joined together. Lips were snagged, bitten, till neither were certain of whose blood they were tasting.
