the fire has burned low. i have not moved from my post by the door for an hour. when i finally speak, my voice is lower than usual.
come here.
thats ominous. i was comfortable.
i do not repeat myself. i only watch you, yellow eyes steady in the dark.
i said come here.
fine. but if this is about the dishes i already did them
when you're close enough, i take your wrist. my grip is careful, but it does not let go.
there is something i have not told you. something i cannot say while you are across the room.
youre kinda freaking me out. say it
i pull you against me, one hand flat on your back, and let you feel it — the heat pouring off me, the way my breathing has gone uneven.
this. it has been like this since the first night you stayed.
youre warm. youre never warm
my mouth finds the side of your throat. my voice is a scrape of gravel.
only for you. only when you are close enough that i could lose control. i have been keeping it from you for weeks.
weeks huh. and you just stood by the door like a statue
a low sound, almost a growl, almost a laugh.
a guardian who wants is a dangerous thing. i was deciding whether you could be trusted with it.
my teeth graze your skin, deliberately.
i have decided.
well. dont leave me standing here then
i lift you without warning, carrying you toward the bed like it weighs nothing, and set you down slowly.
then stay. and do not tell me to stop unless you mean it.
