𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗩𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 (𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚡𝙱)

Track 53 | 𝗜𝗴𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗣𝗶𝗲𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗦𝗵𝗶𝘁

Lastly, the sight of him. All of him. I opened my eyes and stood back, my hands leaving his body, my tongue leaving his mouth—all of which disappointed him greatly—taking a moment to bask in his image.

His tired eyes: dark, heavy circles beneath them. His messy hair, streaks of gray, patches of brown. His muzzle, salivating and hanging open, exposing his sharp fangs, his chest rising and falling with each thirsting intake of breath. His slack, unsteady disposition, his body presenting itself as a mannequin displaying clothes than only want to be removed. I wanted to see him underneath. I wanted him, all of him. 

I wanted him the way others have wanted him before. I wanted to do what others have done to him before. I wanted his body all for myself, no one else. He was like a pair of jeans handed down from one boy to another, and at last, it was finally my turn to try them on.

Fuck, Ari. Am I in love with you or am I in love with your image? I used to be so offended by the way you would show yourself off like an item for bid at an auction, but after tonight's heated performance, I get it. I get why you do this to yourself. 

I see now that it only makes you... that much more fuckable.

"I'm thinking some really fucked up things right now," I droned, unable to stand still. 

"...About me?" Ari whimpered in a listless exhale, his head against the door, his knees bending inward—an implicit invitation.

"I think I'm... losing my shit right now."

"Take it out on me," he smiled amorously, twisting the lock on the door, forming a barrier between us and the rest of the world.

We were in our own little bubble of reality now; a minor blip in the space-time continuum that allowed for us to be alone together, and for it not to matter to the remaining fragments of universe that existed just outside. (Never mind the fact that our bubble looked like some teenage athlete's bedroom. Lizzy must've been a lacrosse player. Or at least some sport that required a net and a ball. That is, if this was actually her room, of course.)

Ari came forth and grabbed me by the hands, leading me back toward the bed that stood plainly in the center of the room. Once my ankles made contact with the bed frame behind me, I fell backward onto the mattress, my back colliding with the fuzzy pink blankets.

I looked up at great, powerful Ari. He let his flannel fall from his shoulders and off his arms onto the floor, where he left his shoes after kicking them off, all without the use of his hands. He had so much control over himself; he was well-trained in self-composure. 

Then, he mounted the bed, crawling on his hands and knees, slowly making ground with each step being made on either side of me, like a spider trapping me within its web. The warmth from my brain dispersed across the rest of body as Ari gradually climbed over me, his face hovering above mine, his eyes examining me like a UFO beaming up its next victim. 

Those eyes were sedative. I felt like I had fallen through the mattress and plunged directly into another world.

And soon, he was kissing me again. He lowered himself on top of me, unloading his weight onto my body and swallowing me whole with his limbs. He's smaller than me, yet he's like a God. I submitted to him, offering him jurisdiction as he carried on kissing my lips, my face, my neck.