"I could spend hours between your legs, teasing... sucking, tasting you."
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*Completed & Slowly Being Rewritten*
Previous title: Cabaret of Whispers
One night stands were supposed to be simple with no strings attached. But when Ax...
Some men had honour, some were virtuous and believed in innocence. They cherished all they considered beautiful and unspoilt by the cruelty of the world. They gave their lives for the things they considered theirs. They never succumbed to their darkest fantasies. Hell, maybe they didn't even have any dark fantasies, to begin with.
Ax wasn't like that.
He had none of these traits or at least that is what he believed. He was prideful, arrogant, a partial egomaniac, he was everything that was considered to be wrong yet he had let her leave.
Ax let her escape and she had walked away from him without even looking back.
But he still belonged to the second kind.
The kind that took innocence and beauty and twisted it until it didn't resemble it's former glory, turning it into something mundane and ordinary, spoiling its name and making it dirty like a curse.
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Ax couldn't bring himself to leave. He spent the whole night outside of her house, waiting in his car. Hoping that there would be a sign that she had not meant the words she had thrown so carelessly. That never happened. She remained locked inside her dark house and had not even peeked through her bedroom curtains.
As the hours passed Ax caught himself thinking about her reaction to his gun. She had not looked surprised or even a little bit frightened and that had made him wonder. Any normal person would be flabbergasted at the sight of a weapon but not her, never her.
Stupidly brave that was what she was.
His Spitfire, his little dove. But she wasn't truly his, was she? Could a woman like that ever be considered somebody's property? Wasn't she too strong, too egotistical? Weren't they the same?
All Ax wanted was to possess her being, he wanted to be in her mind even when he was not around. Hell, in a way he wanted to be her saving grace. Ax couldn't help but remember how she had looked during her breakdown and how much he had wanted to destroy whoever it was that had caused her pain. Instead, he was the demon lurking in the dark, the anti-hero. The man whose intentions always are purely selfish. He didn't know how to be anything else but for the first time, he wished he could learn to change, to be better. Not to be a man that carried a gun wherever he went.
Someone who deserved her.
A good man.
Ax wasn't good. Never had been, never will be. Except for the occasional act of kindness, he was worse than some characters in Game of Thrones. He had done things he would never be proud of, things that would make even the gentlest of hearts harden significantly.
