In the blackness, these moments seem to last an eternity. You don't know if minutes or hours or days have passed by. You don't know if you've grown old and gray, or perhaps if time has moved backwards and you are but a babe again, with legs too long for your own body. All you know is what you can sense- Elsa's breathing, Elsa's touch. An embrace you never meant to offer but that happened anyways. The cold air on your skin, the sand beneath your hooves... But what of your heart? You can feel it beat, feel each pulse as it presses blood through your body. Can you feel the emotion within it?

She likes what you do when you lip at her mane, pull at the strands, feel the hairs in your mouth the same way you feel your drugs. Does she taste like addiction?

You press back against her, if only to keep yourself upright, her insistent closeness threatening to dump you into the sand. And maybe you should be? Why shouldn't the two of you lay together in the sand, why shouldn't the two of you tumble down to the ground and lay close together, meld your bodies into one? The idea surprises even yourself, as you have it, but you find your lips moving even while you do not ask them to. Your teeth begin to graze against the crest of her neck, nibbling against her flesh, if she doesn't run. Its a gentle touch, light, shaky. Are you afraid? Is Elsa?

And then she's pulling at your mane, the motion sharp rather then tender, and you stop your busy mouth, letting your nose rest against her flesh but not moving. You listen, you hear only breathing. Breaths, shaky breaths. Are they yours or hers? They're coming from your nose, your chest. Why do you shake? What are you afraid of? But you know what you're afraid of before she says it, and then she does. Please. And you sigh, because you finally have words for what you're thinking and it kills you inside, a little.

You don't want to be her nightmare, you don't want her to wake screaming at night because she fears you. You want her to feel like she does now, whatever that feeling that she has might be. But if you 'don't leave her' as she asked you, if you become hers to watch over... Will she see you watching from the shadows? Will she notice the way you follow her about? Will she begin to hate you when you smother her, chase off her friends, keep all of her time to yourself, make her your new addiction? She'll hate you. She'll hate you and it will destroy you. And this is what you are afraid of.

But you can't say no to her now, because she's begging you and here... here in the darkness, it just feels right. “Okay,” you rumble softly, your teeth beginning their soft grazing motion down her neck again. “I promise,” you finish, and you wonder if she'll notice that your lips and teeth move down her neck. Slowly, oh so slowly, they move their way towards her withers. Will she let you? Will she want you? “I won't leave.” What have you done?

@[Elsa]

Oxy