Elven Nights

Her face was tilted up towards the stars, hugging her knees to her chest. She looked so wistful, so sad. Like she could cry. He sat up and scooted over to her. Once more, she didn't even blink. She always looked pale, but in the white moonlight, her skin seemed so pale she was glowing. His eyes slid down from her long blue hair, oak leaves woven into a circlet on her head, to her striking, dark, currently blank eyes, a rather unremarkable nose, full pale lips, a thin pink scar under her chin, white graceful neck, a chain hanging from it. He slipped his fingers around the chain, pulling it from her loose black tunic. It was a small emerald carved into the shape of a beech leaf, with small notches in the edges. He held it gently as if it might break, but the pointed edges cut into his skin as it were. He watched a drop of blood form on his palm, and then slide onto the leaf.

Marin's eyes locked onto his face. She could feel the cold logic she had felt dying with his presence. Her thoughts became primal, animalistic, feeding on desires and emotion. She just watched him. Blood on the leaf. Hot. It made her shiver. Hot. Kaven dropped the necklace against her breast, now looking at her too. Hot. Her almost black eyes grew with a dark light, almost blue as it became brighter. Her lips and cheeks became red, flushed with blood. Hot. Her lips parted. Teeth clenched. Hot. Her breathing became heavy. Hot. His fingers traced the line of her lips. Hot. His fingers. Hot. Her breath on his hands. Hot. Her eyes locked on his own, boring into his head like a drill. Hot. A question. Hot. She stared at him. Magic. Power. Heat. Wind. A gentle breeze swept around them, blowing a strand of blue hair across her face to where it rested over her eye and lips. Question. Power. Hot.

Yes.

Marin slid her legs down against the ground. Dirt. Power. Earth. The heat died as his fingers left her lips. Cold. Cold. Her head tilted back. His hands pushed her shoulders against the ground. Power. He leaned over her. His fingers pulled the crown of oak leaves away. Gone. His fingers. In her hair. Free. His fingers on her eyelids. Still. Down her cheeks. Stop at her lips. Hot. He leaned down to her. Come closer. His lips against hers. More. His tongue flicked against her lips. More. He pulled away. Gone.