Aftermath (A series of ELOD one-shots)

XXXIII. Second Life

A/N: An ending, of sorts.

Mature chapter.  

Amazing artwork not mine, ctto.

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(Bihai Cangling. About a hundred thousand years in the future.)

Beneath the dim light of a single night pearl, in a messy divan conjured with haste in the depths of an enchanted cave, two figures lay entangled. An amatory haze, so thick it was almost palpable, hung in the air, heavy with a mind-numbing mix of uncontrolled emotions and quiet desperation.

"Again."

Dew-tipped eyelashes fluttered. It had been hours, or perhaps days, she couldn't really tell. The beginnings of refusal, borne of out of sheer exhaustion, lingered on the tip of her tongue. "I -"

A sweat-soaked forehead dropped against hers, caressing the phoenix blossom birthmark there with quiet reverence.

"Again." The rebuttal was swift and pitiless, brooking no disobedience. Then, an entreaty, quiet and wretched, whispered brokenly against her ear. "Please, Xiaobai."

He had yet to let her go, had yet to let even a breath of air move between their bodies. Even now, his powerful hands gripped her wrists tight, trapping them against the sheets, as if afraid that even a moment's loss of contact will permanently rip her away from his grasp. Under the sheets, a dainty body lay imprisoned beneath a torso littered with scars, lower limbs tangled as if they were one. Ice-cold lips traced a well-worn path from her bare shoulders to her neck, behind her ears, dropping feather-light kisses on her eyelids before laying claim to her mouth, yet again.

She parted her lips in silent surrender, and let herself be dragged once more into the ardourous haze he had weaved around them. Several times she found herself teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, but always, a hand will wound itself around her nape and feed her with a boost of energy, pulling her back to awareness, to the touch and feel and sound of their lovemaking.

He was quiet all throughout, frighteningly so. But in his eyes was a tempest, his breathing harsh and erratic and unkempt, and the frantic, impatient movements of his hands and lips and body gave away the destructive, unquenchable storm that raged on deep inside.

Everything he gave, she took; anything that he demanded, she yielded without demur. Because even through the vague recollections of her addled mind, she understood that she had been lost to him for far too long, and this reunion is just the beginning of a second life that will unfold.

**aftermath**

It was much, much later when she opened her eyes and found that most of the haze had dissipated, although its traces still lingered around them like thick drapes, concentrated on the silver-haired man wrapped around her even in sleep.

She shifted in his arms, not surprised when their vise-like grip on her waist tightened even more. Her gentle fingers carded through the messy tresses of silver silk, soothing and lyrical, weaving a soundless lullaby against his scalp until the furrow between those brows smoothed and the tense muscles of his shoulders relaxed.