#{{ but in this light you look like poseidon pelle x talon }}

[pellelavellan]

Talon + Pelle moodboard @quiisquiliae

[pellelavellan]

journal drabble for @quiisquiliae

23 August, 9:41 Dragon

I think I've made a terrible mistake. At this point I'm sure you're sick of me writing that to you, but until I learn to stop making a fool of myself I am afraid you will hear it again.

Another statement you've heard before: there's this man. I'll spare you my denials and desperate attempts to convince myself that he is different or somehow better than the last. He is most likely not, they never are. I know this, but gods be damned if I am not a slave to a clever smile and a silver tongue.

If you haven't guessed, he has both of these things.

He is also a murderer, a thief, a criminal, a smart ass, a self proclaimed rake... But let me tell you what else he is. A patient teacher, a compassionate person even though he will swear up and down that he is not. He is kind in ways he doesn't even see, he is an artist, a friend to his companion, Bandit. He has his morals, standing up for children, refusing to partake in slavery, or disposing of monsters that should come knocking at my door.

He brings me the hands of those who dared to lay them on me, he tells me he shall dirty his hands if only to keep mine clean. He wishes the best for me in love and in life and then declares himself a monster.

I wonder who told him he was...

He is bound tight in armor of sharp pikes and daggers if only to prove to the rest of the world that he is cold and indiscriminate in cruelty. I have half a mind to believe it has worked, or he would not continue to wear it like the flesh on his bones. But he is not. I just don't think anyone has ever truly seen him. I know this of him, that he is a liar to even himself.

But what have I done? I broke a rule. I told him that my affections of him bridge somewhere beyond friendship and then suffered as he told us lies about himself with such conviction. I wanted to argue with him, whether on his behalf or my own I don't know. It is a natural response to kick and scream when someone drives a knife into your heart, but there are few knives that twist through the heart quite as bitterly as seeing the beauty in someone that does not see it in themselves. And so I said nothing--and cursed my cowardice for not screaming at him of every small thing about him that steal my breath from my lungs, the things that make me crave for not only his body, but his company as well.

But I have done even more unforgivable things. In all this, burning with fury and despair that I have never met someone that felt so handcrafted for myself should believe us nothing more than two puzzle pieces forcing ourselves together if only not to envy the ones that slip into the folds of each other in perfect harmony, I let him kiss me. More over, I let him drink of all the desire I am not brave enough to speak of knowing that one day he would consume all of it and I would be left empty. I didn't care. I don't think I shall when I have nothing left to give, and like the idiot I have always been will lie there patiently, mayhaps forever, for the day that he comes and pours it back into me.

[pellelavellan]

'🌸

Send a '🌸' for my muse's reaction to yours putting a flower in their hair.

When Talon asked him to hold still and took a seat behind him he wasn't expecting him to either be holding a handful of flowers or start braiding them into his hair. A little swell of excitement not too different fro kicking one's feet reading a love letter filled him, but he would try to reign it in.

"You're very gentle," he complimented, smiling.