Brown bird welcomes white wave. Wander no more, dear traveler.
Ann AguirreDon't worry he tells me tenderly. It doesn't matter who you've been, who you are, or who you become. I'm with you every step of the way.
Ann AguirreThere are shades of warmth from the sweet ember of possibility to the roaring fire that fills your soul.
Ann AguirreGrimspace is a bitch mistress who carries unearthly delight in one hand and a crop in the other.
Ann AguirreI think my head's a minefield strewn with triggers, and maybe if I survive each explosion, what emerges from the wreckage will be me, really, truly me.
Ann AguirreSometimes it felt as if all happiness came at a price. You could never, ever, have perfection. Life gave you beauty so you could bear the pain.
Ann AguirreI have your back. I didn't mean only when it's easy. All the time.
Ann AguirreTags: fade
Before he bent his head, I knew what he was going to do. Touch his lips to mine. Oh, and I wanted him to... I stilled, hardly daring to breathe. The old refrain of cant and shouldn't sank beneath the weight of new worlds like please and yes.
Ann AguirreAre you mine?" I asked, low knowing the answer already.
"Completely." His voice thrummed with conviction.
And oh, I liked it.
"So I may do anything I wish with you?"
"Anything."
I didn't need his invitation, of course. He belonged to me, like everything in Sheol, but there was more pleasure in a willing slave. I drew my athame and took his hand. He shuddered at my touch because I put a thread of power in it, pulled it through him in a flicker of the darkest pleasure. Soon enough he'd beg for this, unable to perform with anyone else. I knew how to enthrall my lovers. With a faint smile, I pricked the tip of his finger. Not as much pain as he expected, I think, but I drew blood. His gasp aroused me. His blood welled like a crimson jewel and I took his fingertip between my lips, tasting him. Learning his secrets.
But the world moves on, even when you don't want it to, even when change feels like the end of everything. It never stops.
Ann AguirreTags: aftermath
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