| ManxMan | - Fantasy, Romance - Strong SEXUAL Content |
A small collection of stories telling of certain events linked to the start and duration of the Peony War. Upon a continent riddled with histories of conflict, passion, romance, mystery, and...
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A Script from the Peony War
SCRIPT TWO
Sword of the Craven
— III —
"It doesn't change the fact that I don't deserve your love," Allsun said. His mind was still struggling with the idea of being loved regardless of who he was, regardless of the things he'd done in the past when that love was coming from someone as blameless as Versai.
They couldn't be more opposite from one another if they tried, yet here this person with a soul of passion and such a winsome outlook could view a man such as him in a light absent shade.
Since he was young and long before the time he'd wielded his first sword, Allsun had become familiar with the attachments people could make to those with a pleasant face, and people as such had told him through time how comely he was. A part of him assumed Versai was merely another doting soul, someone minding his existence based solely on his outward appearance.
After all, he figured it wouldn't be so out of the ordinary for a resident of the Zayne. They enjoyed their charming trinkets, and perhaps Allsun was just another pretty thing to add to a collection.
However, pushing that assumption onto Versai felt entirely wrong. Allsun didn't know why the petite and gracious young man was so drawn to him, but through this time they'd spent together, surely there was more to it than a sort of greed.
"Would you like to know why?" Versai asked then, seated atop the other man's lap with no thought to unfasten himself. "You are thinking my love for you has no meaning, yes? I swear to you, although you may not understand my heart, what has cultivated within me is by far the most real thing in existence. My honest, unyielding love may not be tangible, but I swear to you it is real."
"You are unfamiliar to the kind of man I was," Allsun said.
"I don't care who you were," Versai seemed to assert. "I care about who you are now, who you have shown yourself to be before me since the day we met. You are so strong, you are so incredibly handsome; those are the things I noticed about you at first glance, but your nature is what I latched onto. When we are together, you speak softly, carry yourself with such poise and resilience, and in our carnal moments, I have grown attached to the manner your hands pass over my body. You are so careful, so nurturing without knowing it."
"But—."
"Allsun," Versai cut in, "My people, although we originated from a continent far south, the values and aspects we clung to in search for our forever bond followed us here. Once the five senses of my people have been fulfilled, love shows itself and we cling to it. You are immaculately handsome, your voice and tone you take with me is music to my ears, your hands light the most brilliant of fires beneath my skin, the taste of you on my tongue brings my cravings to the surface, and lastly, the worldly perfume you carry ignites a reminder of how direly I need you."
