His athletic fingers stroked through your hair and filled the surrounding air with the endearing aroma of lavender. An odd scent that seemed to stun you, lulled you in between its fangs. Today and every other day. Was it yet so unfitting.

"Tell me the most terrible things you've done, and let me love anyway."

you had whispered words of golden honey. Interrupted by a wheeze, as his breath reached out for any inch of your neck. One that you had badly tried to suppress. Tragically, it had broken out in the end nathless. Had betrayed you and revealed that this situation did not leave your inner core cold at the fullest.

And those creeping hands, they felt like rays of sunlight, tracing your skin gently.

"Who . . . Who are you? Death?"

Words passed your lips anew, trying desperately to build upon a strong undertone, for you didn't want him to know how you felt right now. You didn't want him to know that he was capable of sending freezing shivers down your spine, despite the fact that his body temperature was that of an oven.

"Sometimes,"

he replied latterly. And the low, bittersweet curve on his edges underlined the atmosphere within seconds, making your heart ache in desperation for more.

"but not today. No, not for now, sweet child in time, little human. For now let me be your darkest pleasure."