r (reposeremembers) wrote in repose, @ 2020-04-10 21:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | hugh christian, shiloh foster, travis bodeen, ~plot: memories |
[memory]
What: Memory
Will characters be viewing the memory or experiencing it?: Experiencing
Warning, this memory contains: Blood, teeth
The world is dark because your eyes are closed.
Someone says something to you: a question. You nod your head, even though you're not certain what the question was. Agreeing is always the right answer.
The air shifts, someone moving closer, and you open your eyes. Even open, the room is dim. Too dim to make out the far corners, but light enough to see him standing over you. He smiles, and it's too wide. Sharp. Sharp. You laugh at your thoughts. Because he's sharp. And large, when he leans over and closer. Sharp and big.
You can see your arm in the edge of your vision, lifting toward him. You let your bent knee fall outward. You let your neck curve and jaw lift. You're made up of warm places with hot copper running just below your skin. He only has to choose.
He makes his choice and it's his mouth against your neck, open and cool for a moment as he laughs at you - not a kind sound - and then lets his teeth slice open your skin to the vein beneath. At some point, you lower your arm, and your hand rests next to your head, fingers forming a loose cup of your palm.
There's hunger in the way he drinks from you. He's not delicate or gentle, and you can feel a single ribbon of blood slip hot down toward the back of your neck. You think of the way hot tears used to flow into your hair when you were small, crying silently at night.
He still drinks, and you wonder how much will slip from you to him before he stops. But it's curiosity only. There is no rushing concern in your mind. You close your eyes again before he's done, so when he finally pulls away and laughs quietly in your ear, you don't see his wide smile gone red. You only feel the path of his tongue that leaves you whole again other than what will now flow in his veins instead of yours.