| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 8 |
| M.E. |
Sin’s eyes were mesmerized by the shimmer that came from that gorgeous hide; the satisfaction in the Gypsy’s eyes and the quirk of her smile was so refreshing, so pleasing, that the Disciple swore he had been knocked in the head with the force of his own infatuation. He was surely seeing stars; his eyes swam and the night floated before him in a haze, disconnected and intoxicated; the stallion was surely in love with this woman. And while his mind screamed at him, raged at him, told him this is not love, you deplorable IDIOT, Sin had a hard time distinguishing the correct flow of thought he should follow. His brain was full of sensation, not sense; the starlight was glittering behind his eyes, and Sin was punch-drunk with her magic.
*"Sinny?….Sinny, Sin Sin."*
Every syllable was met with a lurch in his stomach; his dearest wish realized, Sin felt his insides ache in a very beautiful way, and he had to look away from her to stop his knees from growing any weaker. The way she had said his name with that silken voice of hers—it had shamed every other voice in his mind, every other affection he had felt for any other in his life. Farai was forgotten in this moment. Tolio was caught up in a whirlwind denial; even Myrddin was shoved away, though this was out of sheer embarrassment on the stallion’s part. As helpless as he was to her magic, Sin was still conscious of the indecencies of his behavior—and he knew that, while he himself abided by it, he would be hard-pressed to relate the details to his ever faithful master.
His eyes still firmly averted to the ground, Sin finally learned the name of his gypsy angel: Phaedra. Or Phae, if he liked. His heart—or some other betraying organ in his chest—swelled with warmth as he listened to that velveteen voice tickle his ears with her breathy sort of wonder. His heart gave antoehr lurch as he listened to her affirm her love of trees. Was she truly a scholar? Were they soul-mates in science, kindred spirits in knowledge? What sort of fairy tale would this be if Sin met his perfect match here, in the very heart of this strange island nation? It didn’t make any sort of rational sense, it was childish to the nth degree, and Sin clung to that star-struck hope like a filly in her first heat swooning over some dashing rebel of a stud.
*"Sinny my love, tell me something..."*
The silken pull of her voice was enough to make the Disciple raise his eyes to her; she was an adder, transfixing him to that silken, flaxen mane of hers, glittering all over the place with that seductive touch she had. He looked deep into her, drawn to her, to that voice that coaxed his voice into motion. “Anything,” he heard himself whisper.
*"Tell me...a secret!"*
“About the Plague?” he asked eagerly, the words spewing out of his mouth without a second thought, “Would you like to hear about the Plague? Or…” his eyes widened, his mind raking the sides of his skull for any sort of juicy, succulent secret she might like to sink her teeth into, “Or about Tolio? I’ve only met him once, but—“ the Disciple suddenly stopped his words, sheepish in countenance, as something reared in his mind—a snake of reason, slithering its way to his throat and silencing him with a bite of its long fangs.
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IMG Credit: ness094@deviantart.com
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