Endymion
Endymion
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Endymion
By meris (balladhyper@hotmail.com)
There was a second thought; a delay and a moment’s
hesitation as Amon reached over to turn out the small
lamp that he kept next to his bed.
Almost vapidly his eyes slid over the contents of the sparsely decorated—almost
bare—room. It wasn’t that he was
suspicious that there was something or someone in the room that would interrupt
his sleep; no, it wasn’t that.
deep undershadows of his brain, the part he kept
sealed away and pushed under the surface during the day.
brain delighted in doing all the things it couldn’t during the day.
that would otherwise have been deemed completely forbidden.
times a week for the past several weeks, it had been happening in his
sleep. It seemed that as soon as he
entered the realm of the Sandman, he lost control of his brain completely.
with a feeling that he could only vaguely pinpoint as half-hope,
half-dread. What would make
room around him.
It would come from his dreams.
The elevator. It was
only vaguely familiar to Amon; he’d only been inside
of it scant few times. What made this
elevator ride up to the fifth floor unique, however, was the sheer fact that he
was in it, and who was standing opposite of him in the car.
The elevator was the elevator that serviced the apartment
building that Touko lived in, and more recently
The Craft-using STN-J member, Robin.
His partner, Robin. The fifteen
year-old-girlwoman, Robin.
Standing on the other side of the car from him, Robin.
He watched her.
Watched her with an intensity that he dared not to watch her with during
the day at work, around others, or when he knew anyone was looking.
herself seemed to be aware of his heavy gaze burning into the side of her.
presumably to fiddle with her glasses.
He’d made her get the glasses, bought them for her; he considered it his
own fault that he considered her even more
appealing with them on.
The elevator ride seemed to be taking forever.
remarkable that Robin had not yet become aware of his intense gaze.
floor-indicator lights above the doors on the elevator.
looked up to them as well. How was it
that they were only on the first floor?
He resigned himself to placing his hands in the pockets of
his long overcoat and trying not to let his gaze linger too long on the girl
opposite him. It became somewhat
difficult, if not impossible, when she crossed her arms over her thin torso and
inhaled deeply, presumably out of frustration as to how long the elevator was
taking. Her breasts swelled against the
restriction of the black fabric of her dress, and then fell inwards again with
her exhaling motion, still pushed upwards slightly by the position of her
crossed arms.
It did not seem right to Amon that
he should not be able to tear his stare away from Robin’s body—nor did it seem
right to him that she should remain completely oblivious of his wandering
gaze. Of course, at that moment, Fate
chose to frown upon him by making Robin turn slightly to look over and up at
him. He managed to avert his eyes to her
face level quickly—before, he thought, she realized where he’d been gaping.
“Did Touko say when she would be
home?” Robin asked him in her quiet way, as if she were in a museum and not an
elevator. Amon’s
brow wrinkled, then he heard himself say:
“She did not.
Naturally, I would assume sometime tomorrow—most trains have stopped
running for the evening.” That was
right, he was sure. Touko
was out of town, wasn’t she?
“Oh,” Robin murmured, inhaling and exhaling deeply
again. Bits of her hair fluttered in the
displaced air around her face. “I can’t
believe I forgot my key today of all days,” she continued a moment later.
wrinkled once again, but the right words seemed to find their way to his lips
yet again.
“Touko had given me a copy just in
case something like this happened,” he said, and sure enough, he felt the extra
key on the key ring in the deep pocket of his coat.
always home when you come home.”
“Or she always leaves the door unlocked,” Robin added.
mouth, and she stretched her arms upward, her lithe body stretching up and
slightly outwards like a cat, her skin straining against the confines of the
thick black material of her dress.
The next thing that was registering in Amon’s
mind was that he’d crossed the minimal amount of space between himself and
Robin, and wrapped his arms around her almost insubstantial frame, snaking
under the heavy fabric of her STN-J coat.
Every inch of her long torso was currently crushed against his own, and
a noise very much akin to a squeak had just escaped her lips, which had dropped
open in shock. The opportunity, to
up. He freed one hand and reached up,
tilting her mouth closed by putting a finger on her chin, and leaned down to
press his lips against hers purposefully.
Her body seemed to stiffen into a board then turn into a piece of wet
spaghetti a moment later in Amon’s arms.
his lips pressed firmly but chastely against Robin’s, and then he drew back and
took in her startled face.
“Amon, you—“ she began quickly,
shaken. Amon
wasn’t certain, but he thought that perhaps he’d just felt a slight tremor run
through her body. He shushed her by
placing his gloved thumb over hips,ips, staring down into her wide,
explanation-defying green eyes.
“Robin,” he said, quietly but with resolve, “I am going to
kiss you again.” A part of his brain
could scarcely believe the words that were coming out of his mouth or what was
transpiring before his eyes. The
majority of his brain could not believe the incredible feeling of Robin’s body
held firmly against his own, the feeling of her full, pouty
lower lip under his thumb—gloved as it was.
Her response to him was to blink, as if in disbelief.
prolonged than the first, had run through Robin.
attempts to get away from him.
frightened. His behaviour
was shocking to even him.
“Don’t be afraid,” he breathed against her mouth, as he
slipped his thumb away. For a moment he
hung there, feeling their breath mingle in a humid puff—Robin’s lips had
cracked open ever so slightly—and then he kissed her again, this time, with a
bit more intensity.
Her body underwent the same rigid-board-to-spaghetti trick,
and Amon facilitated the kiss by placing his hand
along Robin’s jawline and her neck, tilting her up
further towards him and hugging her tighter.
Amon’s tongue slipped into Robin’s mouth and
in response she seemed to freeze against him.
He’d more than half expected that response out of her, positive that
just a moment ago had been the first time the lips of a member of the opposite
sex had ever touched her own. Seeking
out her tongue, he ran his own against it gently, hoping to entice her to begin
exploring of her own power. Finally,
tentatively, Amon felt the tip of Robin’s tongue just
barely flick against his own, then once more.
He slid his own back a bit and almost immediately felt Robin’s teeth
knock gently against his own as she awkwardly but earnestly sought to prolong
the kiss.
As with most first kissers, Robin had not yet determined the
amount of saliva one was to use when kissing another, and Amon
drew back, leaving a breathless Robin and a small strand of saliva connecting
their lips. It didn’t bother him in the
least; in some strange way, he found it arousing.
leaned back further to fully take in her face.
Having the attention of his eyes focused so suddenly upon her, the young
girl in his arms immediately flushed a hot red colour
and turned her head down in embarrassment.
Her eyes seemed riveted to a point on the floor next to her shoes.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured in a voice that was almost too
quiet to hear. “That must have been
terrible—“
Amon responded by angling her face
up towards his own again and fastening his mouth over her own hungrily, his
tongue delving deep into the warm wetness of Robin’s surprised mouth.
of a beginner, delightedly tilting her head up higher of her own accord in an
attempt to connect more fully with Amon.
kiss this time, he caught her lower lip between his teeth carefully and gave it
a slight tug, causing Robin to produce a soft, incredibly arousing breathy
noise. Her body seemed to sag lightly
against his, suggesting that perhaps she may have been feeling a bit weak in
the knees. This time, when he looked
down at her, she did not avert her eyes but still took on the hot red
The elevator doors opened, after what seemed like an
eternity. This did cause Robin to look
away, out into the abandoned hallway.
The new development seemed to cause her to become a bit confused, and
she pulled away slightly, murmuring a quiet “um” noise as she stared out into
the hallway. Amon
looked out into the hallway as well, never relinquishing his hold on her.
It felt too good.
He was not content to let it end there in the elevator.
His hands trailed around her small waist as he began to exit
the elevator, grabbing one of her hands and pulling her with him.
spare key. The pair stopped abruptly
outside the door to Touko and Robin’s shared apartment
as Amon jerkily unlocked the door, ushering Robin in
the opened door ahead of him.
Once inside, he closed it behind him with what felt like an
air of finality. That was it.
once he had closed the door, once he was inside the apartment—with a very
flustered and bewildered-looking Robin, to boot.
semi-darkness for a moment and then bent to begin taking off her boots, as if
she’d suddenly remembered that she had hands and they were meant to take off
shoes ent entering a home. He watched
her for a moment as she worked at the shoes, watching her normally deft fingers
tremble slightly and what small light there was glint off her maize hair.
against the door.
>&nb>
“You need to take off your shoes, if you plan on staying,”
she informed him without looking up, and her words snapped him back to a
kind-of reality, causing him to reach down towards his own boots.
His progress was interrupted by Robin’s hands on his
boots. “I’ll do it,” she said suddenly,
quietly. He watched her with a sort of
guilty, rapt fascination as she unlaced his boots, one by one.
pulled on it and then she set them neatly next to her own much smaller
ones. Standing up slowly, she was
immediately greeted by Amon’s hands wandering out to
hold her waist, sliding lightly up and down her ribcage.
under his touch, and he realized that it excited him.
“I—I should turn on a light,” Robin whispered as he advanced
on her gradually. “So that we can—“
here, a pause for another shiver as the fingertips of Amon’s
left hand trailed lightly up her ribcage, around the curve of her breast, and
up her neck, “—see.”
“If you’d like,” Amon replied,
honestly not very interested in whether or not there was a light on.
of her long coat, easing it off her thin shoulders and down to the ground
without a protest. “Do you wish me to
leave?” he asked of her, hoping to God that she wouldn’t say yes.
and Amon’s hands paused on her shoulders of their own
accord. He wanted to touch her; God,
yes, he wanted to touch her, but not if she did not want him to.
“No,” came her whispered reply.
to move again. One snaked up to Robin’s
hair, felt around in the dark, and found the end of the ribbon that kept one of
her hair knots in place. He began to
work at undoing it.
“I will stop if you ask me to, Robin,” he said, lowly, in
the darkness. His eyes had adjusted
since they’d first entered the dim room, and now he could make out half of
Robin’s face, open and beautiful in the light from the windows.
One hair knot came undone and the other followed its sister
momentarily. Dropping the ribbons to the
ground, Amon shed his gloves and tossed those to the
ground as well.
Thus bared, he ran his hands through the thick, soft, silken
locks of Robin’s always bound hair. He
had never seen it down before, never seen the way it fell around her long,
beautiful face. He’d never touched it,
but had always longed to.
“I—I don’t know what to do,” Robin admitted in the silence,
sounding a trifle ashamed and more than just a bit embarrassed.
caught in her throat at the way Amon’s now bare
fingers trailed along her jawline, along her lips.
“I am going to show you, my beautiful girl,” he replied,
tng hng her full lower lip while cradling her face with his other hand.
cradling hand. She normal\'>was beautiful, there before him as he had never seen her
before. He had not known it was possible
to want someone in the way he wanted her at that moment.
she was too young and that she was his partner, and that there were just a
million other reasons as to why everything that was happening was so horribly
wrong.
But it felt so damn good, and he wanted it so badly he
thought it would drive him mad.
He watched her turn into his hands, her eyes closed.
liked better; the one cradling her face or the one gently probing her lip.
“How?” she asked suddenly, amazed that there was something
make out her innocent, eager look. So
wrong, yet so right.
“You must tell me if what if you like what I’m doing, or if
you’d like me to do something else, alright?” he asked, and got a tentative nod
from her in response. “And,” he added, taking
up one of her hands in his own and pressing it to his face, savouring
the feather-light touch, “do not be afraid to touch me.
Her hand, seemingly frozen at first, eventually began to
move in whisperingly soft touches across his skin, shaking
ever-so-slightly. Her touch was so
hesitant and gentle that it was achingly teasing, and Amon
more than willingly shed his coat when Robin’s other hand finally found its way
into the fray and began to ease the coat off his shoulders.
wonderingly, reaching high up to smooth it down starting from the crown of his
head. The fingertips on one of her hands
smoothed the line of one of his eyebrows repeatedly, and the other whispered
down his cheek to touch, shyly, his mouth.
When her fingers inadvertently lingered too long near his mouth and it
became unbearable for him, Amon’s hand caught Robin’s
and he took her index finger into his mouth slightly.
He heard her lick her lips nervously as he nibbled and
suckled lightly on her small finger, and she began to stutter a bit.
slowly and turning from Amon.
He caught up with her as she walked across the room, falling
in step behind her with one of his hands on her waist, taking great care not to
step on her skirts. She reached over and
turned on a lamp on a table, suddenly flooding the room with warm yellowish
light. The light revealed that the
blushing red colour had not left her cheeks, probably
not since the elevator.
and wrapped both of his arms around her, one hand holding steady at her hip and
the other sliding slowly up her stomach.
“Are you wanting to stop?” he asked her, breathing the question right
into her ear; her body was arching against his, hard; her chest was heaving
slightly with quickly drawn breaths.
anything. And he was thankful that was
the case—he’d dreamed of having her in this position too many times, and then
to finally get it, only to scare her away?
He didn’t want that at all. She
shook her head quickly, apparently not trusting her voice.
One of Amon’s hands remained
riveted to her hip as a counterbalance for her slightly arching back.
slid slowly up her torso to run once, appreciatively, over her breasts.
throat, almost inaudible; Amon watched over her
shoulder, fascinated at the effect simple touching was having on her.
breasts again, cupping them slightly and molding one in his hand through the
stiff fabric. Almost immediately he felt
the responsive hardening of her suddenly alert nipples, small nubs through the
fabric. Her hands threaded uselessly
through her own hair, gripped and re-gripped at the fabric of her high-necked
collar. Amon
momentarily ceased his attentions to her torso to move one of her hands up and
around to his own neck.
“Don’t be afraid to hold onto me,” he said into her ear,
sliding his hand down her arm to one of her breasts, pinching lightly at the
nipple through her dress. As if on cue,
Robin’s redirected hand clutched convulsively at Amon’s
neck; settled eventually for gripping a handful of his thick black hair.
through her dress, tracing the unseen circle of the areola around it and then
pinching it lightly again. He repeated
this action with his other hand and the other nipple, and followed the urging
of her clutching hand and drew his head closer to her own, down towards her
ear.
“Does that feel good?” he whispered, watching her quick,
fervent little nod; her eyes squeezed shut and face flushed, teeth biting into
her bottom lip somewhat.
bit into the soft lobe of her ear. Robin
quickly pressed the fingers of her free hand against her mouth to muffle any
noise she may have made afterwards. One
of Amon’s arms snaked around her waist, holding her
against him firmly, and the other wrapped over her chest, gripping her
shoulder. He then began to bite and
suckle at her ear mercilessly, causing her hand in his hair to grip with a
strength he didn’t know she possessed.
Her bottom pressed against him enticingly and as a reflex he gripped her
slender body possessively and pressed back slightly, running his tongue along
the rim of her seashell-like ear.
He felt it then, her shudder; it was like an
earthquake. He felt the ensuing slump
afterwards, the way Robin’s body suddenly seemed to weigh a bit more, how she
suddenly seemed to lean on him a bit more of her own power.
to face his, and kissed her lips slowly and almost lazily.
and she nodded, timidly placing a small kiss of her own on his lips, which
caused them to smile faintly.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, ducking her head somewhat to hide
behind the curtain of her hair.
brush against his legs, and took her face in both of his hands, leaving her no
choice but to look up at him.
For what seemed like an endless amount of time they simply
looked at each other evenly, his oddly-colourless
eyes boring into her inexplicably green ones.
It seemed to him that they were talking without any words, without
moving their lips; something inside him was conversing with something inside
her, bridging the gaps between them. The
gap of their height, the gap of their personalities, the gap of their working
relationship, the gap of their experience, and most importantly—at least,
all seeming to close up in the silence they shared.
ferocity that was not betrayed on his face, eyes, or anywhere else about
him—the girl in front of him was a full ten
years his junior, the age of a young high school student, at best.
any other fifteen year-old girl in the world?
Sometimes one could forget just how old Robin really was, with the way
she acted and carried herself—something Amon had not
let himself do very frequently, due to the dangers hidden in act of forgetting.
He’d come this far, however.
Age difference or no, he’d crossed a line in relations that delegated
them to the roles of man and woman, regardless of whatever other roles they may
have filled in daily life. Here, in this
world, this time, he could not focus on the fact of her age.
very much a part of the enfolding drama as he was, even if he had been the
instigator. Robin wasn’t exactly
fighting his advances tooth and nail; he’d seen the way she acted around him,
the way she looked at him when she believed he wouldn’t notice—the trick was,
up until shortly ago in the elevator, he’d chosen to ignore it all.
for his own sake.
Those carefully erected barriers had ceased to exist.
Slowly, he moved his hands downward and let his fingers come
to rest on the top button of the smaller bib-like garment she wore over her
puritanical, antique-looking dress.
black button through its corresponding loop, then looked back up to Robin’s
face. His own face issued a statement to
her, a warning of sorts: tell me when, if you want me to stop—otherwise, I
shall not.
Her return look was a strange mixture of nervous strength
and defiance, as if to say she was prepared, that she could handle whatever he
dealt her next. The wordless agreement
passed between them, Amon’s hand subdued the next
button, then the next, then the next, until Robin was shedding the other garment.
seemed to become even more svelte and
alluring, if such a thing were indeed possible.
For the moment, she seemed unsure of what to do with her hands.
unsurely at Amon’s shoulder and the other traveled up
to his hair again, smoothing locks of it between her fingers.
maintaining almost complete control over whatever reckless urges were running
through him, resolved to let the encounter move at whatever speed she set with
her own actions.
“Your hair is…very nice,” she murmured, a trifle
uncertainly. It was as if she wasn’t
sure if talking was allowed or not. A
small, quirked smile graced Amon’s mouth, something
he realized Robin had either very rarely or never seen before until
tonight. “It’s very…healthy,” she added
a second later, as if to elaborate.
to smile faintly at her.
“Thanks for the compliment,” he replied, then looked about
himself a bit. They were still standing
in the living room, not far from the front door where they had come in.
he have any desire to conduct the entire business of foreplay standing up, or on
a couch. Without much warning to Robin,
he bent and hooked his arm under her knees, another around the small of her
back, and lifted her off the ground, finding the task to require almost no
effort whatsoever. She was as light and
insubstantial as she looked.
Robin, for her part, blinked at the sudden change in
arrangement with mild shock.
think you would probably prefer to be sitting or laying down, shortly.
accommodating.”
“My bedroom is down that hallway, on the left,” Robin
replied, pointing in the direction of aforementioned hallway.
had just said. It seemed as if the
nature of the situation and what they would almost inevitably end up doing had
just hit her.
Amon steeled himself, pressed his
lips together, and walked purposefully towards the bedroom door, not allowing
himself to think of what was going to happen on the other side of the
door. Nudging the partially opened door
with his foot, he entered the room and walked towards the shape of a bed in the
darkness. After setting Robin down on
her feet near it, he reached over to the shape of a lamp on a bedside table
near the shape of the bed, and pulled its small chain.
like just barely enough light to see. A
quick glance around proved Robin’s room to be almost as bare as his own, her
bed immaculately made, a small bookcase packed with books—and,
what appeared to be some sort of love-worn stuffed critter on one of the
shelves. He looked back to her and
discovered that she had been looking up at him the whole time.
settled on her, more than likely as a result of his realization that they
questioningly.
“Should I sit, or lay down, or…?”
supposed, somewhat legitimate, given her lack of experience) question caught
him off guard. His response was to shrug
at her with his eyebrows; pushing, with great force of will, his urges to
wrestle her down to the bed and lay into her like a madman out of his
mind. “Do whatever you like, whatever
feels most comfortable to you. I’ll
react accordingly.”
Robin considered this for a moment, and then broke eye
contact with him, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
then pushed herself further back onto the bed, then pulled up her feet and
turned, laying down with her head on the pillow.
looked up at Amon, her stocking-covered feet rubbing
at one another nervously. “Okay,” she
said to Amon, as if to confirm her choice of
position. He sat down on the edge of the
bed and then turned to lay down himself, scooting himself over and next to
Robin. One of his arms turned her on her
side, towards him, while the other smoothed his thumb over her cheek.
“Comfortable?” he asked her in an almost conversational
tone, rubbing his nose against hers. She
nosed him back gently.
“Um, yes,” she replied, closing her eyes at the feeling of
his hand smoothing down along the curve of her side, along her hip.
words and instead responded by kissing her deeply, slowly, his hand pressing
her small body against the length of his own much more substantial one,
exhalation of breath through Robin’s nose against his face, and he responded by
pulling her tighter, harder against him, unable to keep his lower half from
pressing instinctually into her own. A
small ‘hmmph’ noise issued forth from the girl next
to him, against his mouth, and her hands came up to clutch at the fabric of his
shirt tightly.
The next time his body uncontrollably pressed against her,
she questioningly pressed back, obviously inferring from the action that
perhaps she was supposed to apply pressure back.
the small, laboured sigh that came from his mouth as
he broke contact with her lips. He
doubted she could feel it through all the layers of fabric that existed between
them, but she’d somehow intuitively pressed right against where he wanted to
feel her pressure most, his hardness that was starting to make itself achingly
unbearable. Restraint or no,
to up the ante of the foreplay for his own sanity and Robin’s own well-being—he
suddenly doubted his ability to be a perfect gentleman forever.
He rolled Robin onto her back again and began to work on the
small black buttons that started at the top of her stiff, high-necked collar
and ran down the front of her dress. She
did little more than watch him breathlessly as inch by inch, her amazingly
white skin began to come into view. “Is
this alright?” Amon asked, feeling obligated to,
although he did not look up from his driven task to bare at least some of
Robin’s body to his attentions.
“Yes,” she murmured in a voice barely audible.
below her small, perfect bellybutton, the only thing visible to him at the
moment in the long, white expanse of flesh from her navel to her neck.
decided. Propping his head up on his
hand, supported by an elbow, he looked down on her with a feeling akin to
hunger curling low in his gut, his index finger tracing a path from her navel
up along her breastbone, up her neck.
Her breathing was somewhat increased, her pulse easily felt drumming in
the soft curve of her neck.
sides, and he pressed careful kisses at her temple.
“You are so pale, Robin,” he murmured, lips still against
her temple, watching his hand make its lazy journey up and down her torso.
either side of her. He began to make a
trail of feather-light kisses starting at her jaw, working his way down her
neck—pausing, for a moment, to suckle lightly there—then down to the space
between her rising and falling breasts, down to her soft, flat stomach.
feeling the almost invisible blondish peach-fuzz there against his cheek, and
then began to slowly and leisurely circle her bellybutton with his tongue.
shaky expulsion of breath told Amon that he was doing
the right thing. His broad, wide hand
ran up her side, thumb rubbing at a rapidly hardening nipple through the now
greatly loosened material of her dress.
As she gasped quietly, he flicked his tongue into the little niche of
her bellybutton, causing a small, uncontrollable jerk of her hips, which did
not go unnoticed by Amon.
“It feels good?” he found himself asking her, already
knowing full well the answer by the reactions of her body and the sounds she
produced—he simply found himself wanting the satisfaction of hearing it from
her mouth, her words, her voice. He
rubbed his face against her belly again, pinching lightly at the aroused nipple
he’d began to pay attention to. He
affected by his actions.
Amon realized that perhaps he was
in the situation. He wasn’t sure if that
was wrong or just simply natural, but he couldn’t help it.
“Yes,” she breathed for what seemed like the fiftieth time
that night. It was as if she
“Good,” he replied throatily, his tongue dipping into her
bellybutton once more, and then tracing wetly up to where his hand had been
doing all the work before, biting ever so gently at the hard nub of flesh that
was Robin’s nipple through the fabric of her dress.
her hands immediately flying down to clutch tightly at the shirt on
She suddenly paused, hesitantly, and removed her hands from his shirt as
if perhaps such a severe reaction had been the wrong thing to do, as if she
were embarrassed. Amon
lifted his head slightly, looking up at her pointedly, heavily, somewhat aware
of the fact that his eyes were probably almost clouded over with want.
“It’s alright, Robin,” he assured her, oddly touched at the
way her eyes were boring into him, clinging to his own for some sort of support
as her body seemed to rebel against her constraints of self-control.
onto me or touch me. It’s very natural
to do both.” As he finished speaking,
her hands returned unsurely to his shoulders, and he hoped she wouldn’t notice
the way that every muscle in his body had turned completely stiff and tense in
his efforts to keep himself somewhat polite in his motions.
the cloth of her dress to the side quickly and gently, revealing one perfectly
formed breast. It was neither small nor
large, and it seemed to fit perfectly in the palm of Amon’s
large, flat hand. The nipple and areola
were a becoming sandy-pink colour, as befitting the
paleness of her skin. He noticed the
slight thumping of her pulse shaking her chest.
Amon endeavoured to
fasten his mouth to the delicate nipple without much more thought, suckling on
it with a gentleness that somewhat masked the urgency beneath it—but not
completely.
As before, Robin’s reaction was almost immediate; her body
shifted and arched slightly towards the attentive mouth on her breast, her
hands moved from holding fast to Amon’s shoulders to
holding onto his long hair for dear life, a contented mewling noise escaping
her lips. The mewling only increased as
his teeth carefully and flicking his tongue against it rapidly, cradling
Robin’s torso with one of his arms to bring her closer to his mouth.
nudging the dress aside with his nose and promptly setting his mouth to work on
the other nipple; beneath him Robin squirmed and her skin burned as her heart
pounded in his face and her throat produced interesting noises.
Of its own accord, Amon’s lower
half began to press tightly against one of Robin’s legs, pinning it down and
using it to provide the relieving friction he desired.
her side again, and moving her hands up to the buttons of his Oriental-style
overcoat, helping guide them to unfastening the first button.
Nervously, hands shaking somewhat, she began to undo the
others of her own accord as Amon ran his hands
uncontrollably through her hair, raining fevered, quick kisses along her brow
and the crown of her head. When she was
finished with his overcoat, he sat up to quickly shrug out of it, then pulled
the long-sleeved black shirt he wore under it over his head deftly.
thumping against his broad chest heavily, he let his shirt drop to the floor
silently and gazed down at Robin suddenly, her body semi-bared to him in the
dim light. She flushed bright pink and
did not meet his searching gaze or his hungry, appreciative looks; instead she
rolled her head to the side on her pillow and stared at the bookcase along the
wall, one of her hands fidgeting on her stomach, near her bellybutton.
“Do you not like me to look at you?” he queried, leaning
down to her feet, reaching up into her skirts a bit.
her knee and pulled it down, off her foot.
Wonderingly his hand slid back up and down her calf a few times, amazed
at how thin but how shapely her legs were.
“Well…” She
paused. “It just feels strange, that’s
all. I mean, to be…”
having problems getting the words out of her mouth.
like this, it’s…”
He pulled off her other sock, letting it drop to the floor
to join its mate. His hands circled her
ankles, rubbing them slightly, dwarfing them.
“It is a new experience for you,” he conceded, looking down the length
of her body at her. “However, you shouldn’t
be ashamed or at unease with yourself.
You are very beautiful, Robin.”
Her cheeks continued to burn pink, as if the blood was never
going to resume flowing normally in them again.
“Thank you,” she whispered quietly, as Amon
returned to her upper body, taking her by the shoulders gently and sitting her
up. She did not resist or protest as he
began to slip her dress fully off the upper half of her body, revealing her
sides, her back, her shoulders, and arms.
Her pendant dangled slowly between her breasts, knocking slightly
against her pale skin.
behind her, leaning his back up against the headboard and pulling Robin back to
lean, reclined, against him. Her bare
skin burned intently against his own, her breath fanned against his neck as her
head rested nestled back against his shoulder.
She squirmed a bit, more out of nervousness and realization more than
anything, he deduced, her bottom shifting a bit against his apparent
hardness. If she hadn’t been able to
feel its presence before, she definitely did then.
“Are you uncomfortable there?” he asked her, feeling her
shifting and accurately deducing its source.
She shook her head rapidly, her breasts moving some against his arms,
hair flicking over his shoulders.
“Um, no. …Are you?”
she asked, tentatively. He couldn’t help
but chuckle lowly.
“No. I’m fine.
her, pulling her tighter to him, her bottom resting firmly against the telltale
hardness of his length, and quietly, she accepted this new position.
over his arm and up to his shoulder, and she turned her head against his neck
to place a few experimental kisses there.
Amon closed his eyes and let out a heavy
breath when he felt the gentle, warm touch of her tongue on his neck, and he
leaned his head away from her somewhat to arch his neck into her
attentions. Her actions were shy and
inexperienced but wholly sincere, and Amon was so
very aroused by her simple presence that even if she’d just lain there and pet
his hair, he was sure he would have found it extremely stimulating.
neck, Amon cupped one of her breasts in his hand,
rubbing it and squeezing it enough to elicit a small moan out of the small girl
in his arms.
With one arm wrapped around her torso just under her
breasts, Amon’s other hand slid downward and under
the fabric of her dress bunched low around her waist and hips.
with an even longer reach. His hand ran
teasingly over one of her hipbones, and then slid lower still, lifting gently
on the band of her undergarment and brushing lightly over the patch of hair he
found there. Robin froze completely, her
mouth paused, open, against the side of Amon’s
neck. His hand pushed further down, his
fingers parting her labia to find Robin almost drippingly
wet with arousal. She loosed another
small moan into his neck, her head lolling slightly.
finger inside of Robin, her hips gyrating slightly in response.
began to move his finger slowly in and out of her, her ample lubrication making
it easy to establish a steady rhythm.
Robin’s body came alive of its own will; her knees leaning apart in an
effort to take Amon’s finger in further, her hips
rocking up slightly to meet his probes, one of her hands snaking up to clutch
at the back of Amon’s neck.
He slid his finger out of her eager wetness, and used two of
his fingers to trace the slick opening of her vagina, coaxing a whimper out of
her; her bottom, under Amon’s gripping guidance,
ground tightly against his own arousal, causing him to moan quietly against her
hair and press back, welcoming the friction.
In order to encourage her hips to continue moving against him so
deliciously, he slipped both fingers into her opening, prompting another moan
from her mouth into his neck, another roll of her slender hips and firm behind
into his restricted shaft. This time his
fingers deftly manipulated her slick opening with more speed, a bit more
pressure, his hips bucking slightly in time with her own, the sound of her
gasping and sighing inciting his desire further.
His fingers moved out of her yet again, only to seek out her
swollen clitoris and press against it gently, causing Robin’s slender body to
jolt as if she’d touched a live wire.
rolled over it once more, just as gently as before.
intensity that she hadn’t before, her legs shaking slightly.
at the way Amon began to repeat his technique with
delicate intensity bordered on a small shriek.
Her body, squirming and shaking of its own accord, uncontrollably,
rocked into his touch eagerly.
and outwards, her feet pushing uselessly against the bed.
“What does it feel like?” he asked her suddenly, speeding
the motions of his fingers, rendering speech next to impossible for Robin.
his touch, and felt an odd sense of possessiveness come over him, accompanied
by the ever-familiar pointing finger of guilt.
“It’s—I—“ Robin’s
head tossed and rolled in the crook of his neck, her hair tickling his bare
skin as she moved. “I don’t—oh,
on her last word, her last syllable. Her
body moved at a new fever pitch in his arms, and Amon
clenched his jaw, finding his own body moving along with hers, of its own
accord. While it would appear to him
that she was very much under his control,
her body seemed to have taken his captive in its own way, as well.
frantic movements of Robin’s body, Amon knew she was
rapidly approaching her climax, and clung to her even tighter, if such a thing
was possible.
“Let it go, Robin,” he uttered against her hair, encouraging
her; his fingers never stopped their relentless, quick play over her aching
clitoris. “Let it go.”
“Oh—“
moment, into a high-pitched, almost keening moan, her body rocking against his
rhythmically and slowly, lost in the throes of her orgasm.
slightly beneath the gentle pressure of his fingers and her body slowly stopped
moving, leaving her slumped against him breathlessly, her still
slightly-twitching legs leaning against his heavily, her skin burning against
his with arousal and exertion, and, possibly, the presence of her Craft,
skin seemed far too warm to be caused by just simple excitement.
as well, even if there was no outward manifestation of them.
“Are you alright?” he asked her, removing his hand from
beneath her skirts and resting it, still damp, on her stomach.
breasts moving temptingly near his arm, her behind shifting teasingly against
his erection, which was now almost painful to stand.
“I’m fine,” she sighed, turning her head back into his neck,
the curve of her nose pressing against the curve of his neck.
quietly it almost wasn’t heard.
behind her. His hands, which desired to
do nothing more than free himself from his confining pants and grasp Robin’s
hips as he impaled her, instead settled for pulling a bit urgently at her
skirts under his almost infallible willpower.
Lazily, she lifted her slender hips off the bed and facilitated his
removal of the rest of her dress, casting the voluminous garment down to the
ground, leaving her lying there in little more than a pair of simple black
panties. The afterglow of orgasm seemed
to have drained the self-consciousness from her and replaced it with a certain
shy pride in her warm body.
smiling sardonically and chuckling a bit.
“You know what they say about women who wear black
undergarments,” he said, putting his head in his hand and shaking it
slowly. He looked up to find Robin
blinking at him in mild confusion.
“’They’ say something about that?” she said, apparently not
familiar with the male rumour about women and their
black underwear. Amon
blinked at her, suddenly acutely aware of the naivety and age of the girl he’d
just succeeded in sexually satisfying, and squelched down the guilt in his mind
before it threatened to consume him.
“It’s nothing.
his belt. After he’d succeeded in
defeating that, he began on the button and zipper of his slacks, his stomach
muscles tense with the anticipation of what he was about to do.
pause on his zipper, his arousal plainly evident through his pants.
again, the comfortable afterglow of satisfaction having left her.
heart skipped a beat, spreading a stabbing pain throughout his chest.
chest, then resting her chin atop them.
his efforts tsh msh most of the wanton desire off his face and regard her in
somewhat of a calming manner.
“I’ve never done this,” she whispered to her toes, avoiding
weren’t obvious that she was a complete novice at lovemaking.
Amon frowned, a part of him
wishing that she hadn’t conveniently remembered that particular fact right as
he was preparing to alleviate some of the desperate ache in his groin.
he chose to listen to, anyway, reminded him that she was, after all just a
young girl—and that he was a grown man who had no business to be doing this
sort of thing with her anyway. He
rationalized with himself quickly that it was normal\'>better this way, better for him to take her virginity; better him
than some inexperienced, awkward, perhaps hurtful boy closer to her own age who
wouldn’t appreciate her or be as concerned for her well-being.
But then again, Amon
second-guessed himself, if he was really
that concerned about Robin’s well-being, he probably wouldn’t be getting ready
to have sex with her in the first place.
He ignored the endless dilemma in his head and reached out to Robin,
carefully forcing her to look him in the eye.
“Yes,” he began, truthfully, “it normal\'>is going to hurt a bit, Robin.
There’s no way to avoid that. But
that’s why you need to help me, remember?
And tell me what I’m going to need to do to make it better for you.
case, there’s no way for me to avoid doing it.
It’s not intentional. Sometimes…”
Robin blinked at him, her eyes still speaking of the
presence of slight fear and nervousness.
“…you have to appreciate pain before you can appreciate pleasure.
to…uh, this,” she finished. She made a
small motion that was meant to indicate them and the room around them.
her arms from around her knees, and laid her legs down, pushing her back down
to the bed. She laid back down without
complaint and lifted her hips from the bed once more to facilitate
zipper, pulled it down, and he hurriedly rid himself of his last garment.
the fact that he was not wearing undergarments of any kind—he often didn’t,
they bothered him—and took in a shaky breath, the familiar old red hue
returning to her cheeks.
Amon, at this point, beyond eager
to be inside of her, decided that it was all up to her as to whether or not she
wanted to spend any time experimenting with handling his cock, which he half
expected she wouldn’tan san style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'> That didn’t
bother him; he probably wouldn’t have expected her to anyway.
asking way too much of his young lover way too soon.
hands and knelt between them, bracing himself above her with an arm on either
side of her. Amon
leaned down and kissed her, feeling her return his kiss and place her shaking
hands softly in his hair. Indeed, as he
broke the kiss and looked down at her, Robin’s whole body appeared to be
shaking slightly. He closed his eyes and
dropped his forehead against her shoulder, steeling himself.
“I’m going to begin, Robin.
If you want me to stop, you have to tell me, alright?
beautiful girl.” He rubbed her shoulder
momentarily with one of his hands, then returned it to bracing himself on the
bed next to her. “Don’t be afraid of
me,” he reminded her yet again.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she assured him quietly, her
trembling hand touching the side of his face lightly, her finger trailing over
his lips in a touch so light it seemed ethereal.
Amon couldn’t take any more.
more. Gripping his throbbing member, he
directed it into Robin’s swollen wetness slowly and gently, feeling her tense
under him, holding her breath.
Here was the real test of Amon’s
self-control. As he entered her as
carefully as he could, he grit his teeth so fiercely that he swore he could
hear the enamel cracking on them. The
sensation of being inside Robin was more sinfully pleasant than he could have
ever imagined—more than accommodatingly slick, incredibly warm, and tighter
than Amon really ever imagined a virgin woman could be.
pressing down into Robin’s trembling body slowly until suddenly, he couldn’t
anymore, and he knew perfectly why.
Robin jumped slightly at the sudden bump of his erection against her
intact hymen, gooseflesh prickling out across her shaking body despite it being
beyond unusually warm.
more to do with his battle between his desire and his will than
nervousness. He looked down at Robin,
her overpoweringly green eyes looking up at him, wide and imploring.
s\'>
“It’d be better to do it quickly,” he breathed, looking down
at her. God help him, he couldn’t help
but feel aroused and in a way, somewhat proud.
She was going to be his.
forever belong to him, something that would forevonneonnect them.
prolonged, if I don’t try to do it slowly.”
Robin bit her lip, looking up at him.
But…give me warning, alright? I
want to be…prepared.”
Amon nodded, leaning down to kiss “I’m going to count to three,” he murmured, lips still “Three.” He thrust “Robin.Don’t After what was probably a full minute and a half, Robin “Good,” Amon murmured in reply,
the tip of her nose. He left his lips to
rest there and nodded again. “Alright,”
he murmured against her skin, feeling her suddenly tighten constrictively
against him, all the les les in towerower half of her body tightening in
anticipation of the act. That was almost
enough to make Amon jerk forward compulsively and do
it right then and there, but he stopped himself before he could do it.
have never forgiven himself—he was quite sure Robin never would have,
either.
>
against her nose. Her lower body
remained completely rigid, the pressure luring him to thrust inside.
bit. “Two,”; he braced himself better on
his hands, and looked down at her, staring heavily until he had sufficiently
captured her wide-eyed gaze in return.
His cross swung back and forth weightily in the space between them;
off-handedly, Amon wished he’d had the presence of
mind the remove the blasted thing. There
was a moment of silence.
down into her then, feeling the pop, feeling his entire length suddenly
surrounded by her hot, unbelievable tightness, having to flatten his lips into
a tight line to avoid groaning out loud with the pleasure of it as he stared
intensely down into her eyes. Robin’s
mouth had fallen open, her eyes staring up at him unblinkingly.
arms, and suddenhe she surface of her green eyes began to shift in the light,
like the surface of a pond. Tears
brimmed over her lower lashes and ran unchecked from the sides of her eyes;
vaguely as panic. He was torn between
the most acute pleasure he’d ever felt in his life and the insufferable pain of
watching Robin in agony. Quickly he
wrapped an arm around her thin body, holding her tightly to him to make sure
she stayed put and became accustomed to the feeling of his length inside her,
and rolled them onto their sides, squeezing her against him and rocking her
slightly, the best he could. He could
feel her tears continue to roll down her cheeks, onto his arm, onto the pillow.
cry. Please
don’t cry.” Amon
couldn’t quite put into words how much of a monster he felt like at the
moment. Robin sniffled quietly against
his chest, hery sty still impaled by Amon, her legs
slung around his body. He pressed his face
into her hair, unable to get the sight of Robin’s look of sheer pain out of his
mind. He continued to rock her gently.
promise.” His words seemed like cheap
consolation to him. Jesus
What was he doing there, getting ready to fuck a fifteen year-old girl,
taking her virginity from her? Berate
himself as he might, and have the trauma of the image of Robin’s tears burned
into his mind, he could not shake his feelings of fevered lust for the girl in
his arms. Amon
did not consider himself to be a very good or righteous man, he just considered
himself to be a smart and capable one.
There was lots of dirt on his hands already, and he was pretty sure that
if there was a heaven and hell that he’d be going to the slightly warmer of the
two. Never before, though, had a matter
plagued his mind like the matter of Robin had.
He was, whether or not he always showed it or sometimes even admitted it
to himself, wholly concerned with Robin’s welfare—and despite the fact that he
could not shake the fact that he’d felt as if he’d just normal\'>royally fucked up in a really fucked up way, he could not shake the
feeling of his conviction that he’d done the right thing, and his own
happiness.
ceased to sniffle, and Amon wiped at her cheeks with
his large fingers, hoping that her pain had started to subside.
obscuring her face partially. Her eyes
still twinkled with the remnants of her recently shed tears.
“that it’s going away a little.”
acutely aware of the fact that he was still as hard as the moment he had
entered her. Robin tittered.
phrase. “…normal\'>full, though.” She squirmed
around a bit, moving around his shaft slightly.
Suddenly she peered downwards in an apparent effort to view the area of
their union, obscured by the shadow of their bodies as it was.
“Bleeding?” Amon finished for her,
seeing her nod a bit in reply. “Yes,
probably. That’s normal.”
unmoving, Amon decided he couldn’t take the stasis
anymore and began to draw his length out of Robin slowly—but not too
slowly. He watched her face carefully
for a negative reaction, but she only gazed back up at him unflinchingly, her
eyes boring a hole through him. He
withdrew himself as far as he dared to, pausing for a moment, then sliding back
inside her purposefully, but gently.
Dear God, he thought, it felt good—even at the slow rate they were
progressing at. Again, there was no
negative reaction on Robin’s face, only her teeth biting slightly into her
lower lip.
Having received no sign to stop, Amon
began to slide in and out of Robin’s tight, welcoming box in an easy, unhurried
rhythm. Despite his own inner urges, which,
he suspected, were driving him mad, he forced himself to move slowly for her
sake.
At least in the beginning.
At least until she got used to it.
Then, God help him, Amon wanted to
make her scream.
At first, she barely moved against him, her body remaining
somewhat rigid. She was probably still
feeling some residual discomfort, but after a bit Robin’s body regained its
movement, her throat began to produce small humming noises, and she even
ventured to tentatively rock her hips to meet his cautious thrusts.
rocking over again because she had lost the rhythm, not used to moving in sync
with another human body in such a fashion, but she appeared to be quickly
catching on. Nothing could have pleased
her back, propping himself up above her again and using the greater leverage to
increase the depth and power of his thrusts.
Robin had begun to whimper, but it was not the whimper of someone in
pain. Her hips resumed their attempts to
keep time with his own and for the most part, succeeded.
Amon was starting to pick up his
speed, still not moving as quickly or as powerfully as he would have liked to,
but he didn’t think Robin was ready for such force.
her ear, and impulsively poked his tongue into it.
running through her. He allowed himself
a small moan as he felt her inner walls contract around his cock in response to
her shudder caused by his tongue. He
flicked his tongue over her earlobe a few times, listening hungrily for her
gasps, and then began to suck on the earlobe, unable to keep himself from
slamming forcefully into her a few times when the walls of her vagina tightened
around him further, driving most rational thought from his mind.
Robin’s gasping was not just limited to his attention to her
ear anymore. Her body had begun to roll
with his in such a manner that he could feel the points of her hipbones driving
into him every so often, her hands alternating gripping blindly at the
bedcovers behind her head and her nails scratching helplessly at the
headboard. Amon
pinched at one of her small nipples just hard enough to cause pleasure acute
enough to border on pain. He wasn’t sure
if she was aware of it or if she was simply caught up in the moment, but Robin
had gone from being in pain at his simple penetration to engulfing him all the
way to the hilt each time he drove into her.
Her eyes were squeezed shut tightly as her hands continued their
clutching and scratching, and Amon found himself
suddenly wanting nothing more than the feeling of her eyes upon him.
wanted to be able to read what was lurking behind her eyelids, what would
probably be plainly evident in her eyes.
“Look at me, Robin,” he commanded atilatily, as her eyes
began to flutter a bit, as if she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to open her
eyes or not; as if she was waking up from an afternoon nap.
The force of their lines of sight connecting suddenly was
almost enough to make Amon stop dead in his
tracks. If her eyes had ever seemed to
burn into him before, it was nothing compared to how they did so at that moment
in time. It felt as if she was laying an
entire house upon him by way of her eyes, sucs ths the force and weight of her
gaze. He saw so many things plainly in
Robin’s eyes; among them trust, desire, hope, but above all, love.
offered up to him as some sort of sacrifice.
For his own part, Amon looked down at Robin
like a man gone mad, then impulsively crushed his mouth against her own,
feeling her open and yield to his desperate exploration.
wanted to everywhere and all over her at once, the more of her he took and
touched the more he wanted. It was a
sort of delicious insanity, something he’d never experienced before.
for the girl beneath him, the girl he was buried in, the girl whose mouth he
was tasting.
The kiss ended abruptly when he yanked his mouth awayddenddenly, only to grab onto Robin roughly and roll over.
had been completed and ended with Amon lying on his
back gripping Robin’s small hips tightly, the girl on top looked more than just
a little shocked.
response to her shock to to lift her off of him slightly with ease and then
thrust up into her with such pointed force that a small shriek issued from
Robin’s already open mouth.
“Did that hurt?” he asked her, his voice sounding hoarse and
his breathing laboured.
outburst, and shook her head quickly. Her
comfort ascertained, he proceeded to use his hold on her hips to pound upward
into her, noting with satisfaction that her squeaks and whimpers had turned
into open-mouthed moans and sharp, high pitched noises.
Amon couldhelphelp but watch her
atop him with complete amazement and almost all-consuming lust; the way her
slightly ruffled hair hung down around her neck and shoulders, the way her
teeth bit into her sensuous lower lip, the way her breasts bounced with every
stroke, the way her body arched towards him as her hands found their way behind
her to his to to suppher her and give her balance.
rhythm, sta started to shift her hips accordingly with the thrusts, making the
sensation all that more amazing.
a desperate, frenzied pace until he shook himself out of his trance enough to
realize that Robin was, in fact, shrieking with pleasure.
reach such a volume, such a passion—and suddenly a great, halting, shuddering
gasp escaped her slim body, and she leaned forwards and laid out on
as if she were about to have some sort of breakdown.
constricted and pulled on Amon so forcefully that a
rather startled noise escaped his own mouth as well, even as he held tightly to
Robi she she heaved against him, sent off the edge into her orgasm.
crushed against his chest, her mouth near his ear as she struggled for breath,
whimpering, the feeling of her sex constricting and twitching around his
cock—all of these things led to the complete loss of Amon’s
self control.
He rolled them again so that he was once again atop her, and
before the throes of Robin’s orgasm had even subsided fully, he began to move
into her with a force that he hadn’t used before, sliding again and again into
the welcoming, convulsive tightness that was Robin.
and held it upwards, allowing him fuller access at her, loosing a feral growl
without even realizing he had done it.
Without warning—at least, it seemed to him—he came, the
relief and sensation of it enough to make his breath catch in his throat,
causing him to produce a strange choked noise.
His head dropped down ontbin’bin’s shoulder, and her arms wrapped around
him gently, weakly; he was shuddering, it felt like his very life was emptying
out into her warm passages, and it felt wonderful.
pulled out of Robin—a bit reluctantly—and dropped to her side, immediately
enfolding her into his arms, his chin resting atop her head, breathing
heavily. Her fingers traisoftsoftly over
the place in his throat where his pulse pounded, her long nails whispering
across the skin ever so slightly, enough to make him shudder again and raise
slight gooseflesh.
He wondered, idly, if he’d ever been as content in his whole
life. He lacked the facilities to be
able to vociferate such a large, thought-out statement at the moment, however,
so instead settled for making a low, pleased hum deep in his throat.
some time, both regained their normal breathing patterns, and their hearts once
again resumed to beat at a normal pace.
temperature beneath his hands, and knew then that it must have been that when
the girl herself became excited or exerted, her Craft did the same.
He drew his head back from Robin’s, and looked down at
her. She looked up at him, sensing his
gaze, and their eyes found each other’s.
A small smile graced her lips, and it grew bit by bit until she was
smiling widely at him, her face and eyes lighting with the glow the smile lent
them.
It was a beautiful sight.
But oddly enough, Amon couldn’t help but feel
that something was not right.
Eyes flying open, his hands gripped the sheets around him
with such power it was a miracle that they didn’t tear.
overpoweringly, threatening to suffocate him; it seemed he couldn’t draw enough
air into his lungs. His hands released
the sheets and ran almost desperately over the bed on either side of him,
searching the dark expanses for a small, warm, soft body.
They found nothing but the cool smoothness of an empty bed.
Amon sat up so quickly it made his
head spin with the effort of it, reached over blindly, and turned on the light
next to his bed. Dim light flooded the
room, causing his eyes to squint harshly immediately, his hands flying up to
press to his eyes. Sweat was beaded
lightly at his hairline, under his eyes, on his lip—running his hands upward,
through his hair, he could feel it along his scalp as well.
“God,” he muttered aloud brokenly, to himself, to the room,
to no one in particular. Another night,
another dream. He didn’t know why he’d
expected any less, or why he’d even dared to hope that a night would pass
without some sort of dream that Robin invaded with her presence.
hopes of clearing it of the images that came back to him, unbidden, recalled
from the dream. It had been, he thought,
one of the most vivid yet.
His body ached, his mind going back to the imagery unbidden,
against his will. Amon
growled in frustration, not willing to allow himself the satisfaction of
release based upon his recollection of the dream.
twisted around his legs—presumably mirroring the twisting that he himself had
been doing in sleep—and kicked at them, his very being heavy with his foul mood
and rebellious body, craving release the woe would not provide it.
mercilessly.
Flopping back down in the bed and reaching over to turn out
the light, he laid in the dark and let his hunter’s eyes adjust to the shadows
of the room, everything eventually becoming clearer and taking shape.
again wandered back to Robin without his permission.
in her own room, across the city. Yes,
in her own room, a room in the apartment that she shared with the woman that
fucking; when at night he came home and slept only to dream of Robin, when by
day he thought about Robin more than was necessarily healthy and watched her
every movement. He began to suspect, not
for the first time in his life, that he was somewhat insane—just as his mother
had been, perhaps.
But more importantly, he wondered if that room in that
apartment across the city, if Robin dreamed of him night after night, as well.