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[sacramentalisms]

UN: murdock
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[sacramentalisms]

[he doesn't need to breathe, does he? couldn't he be sustained just by this alone, kissing her forever? after her heart had stopped in his arms, and after he'd woken again, broken and beaten, with her name on his lips, he hadn't felt alive; there's no question, now, with her body pressed flush to his, with her shiver like it's his own, that he's exactly that. alive.

it feels good, being alive. with her. it feels good, lying back to let her come over top of him, no matter how shitty the mattress is that almost immediately sags under their combined weight.

and even if there's a light noise of protest when she breaks from his mouth, it feels good to have hers move over his skin. the noise shifts into a moan, and he grips at her with both hands, fingers curling and digging in.]

[ultraviolents]

[ no one's made her feel more alive, more like a person, than he has. most everyone in her life has tried to use her, to craft her into what they needed her to be and been disappointed when she wasn't. it had started with stick, but it certainly hadn't ended with him. there had been instructors, parents, socialite friends. but never him. he'd been frightened of what was within her, but he hadn't tried to make her change. hadn't tried to have her murdered because she wasn't willing to do it for him anymore.

she pushes those thoughts aside, growling as she feels his hands grip her sides and rocking her hips down onto his with purpose. she nips at his lower lip and moves her hands down, shifting and grasping until she works off the remainder of her clothing, trying to assist him with his. ]