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Orli tells me that Lij sometimes seems to glow, from the inside out, as if he has a mysterious light hidden away in his body. Iridescent; luminous like a chinese lantern. Except, no, they're red. And from Orli's mouth I hear tales about white light. Fluorescent, otherwordly light.
Sometimes, when it's all getting to much to take, I shut my eyes and imagine Lij to be a firefly. Alone in the woods, traipsing about in his too big hobbit feet.; glowing in the dark like one of this stars one can stick on the walls.
Do you know what sailors say about will-o'-the-wisps? They are to seduce you to steer the ship against the cliffs.
Seducing. Yes, that's what he is. He and his glow. His white, luminous skin. His pale throat that makes you want to attach your lips to it, and suck. Suck on it til you leave an ugly purple mark. Except, it wouldn't be ugly. It would be beautiful, perfect. It would mark him; mar him.
And maybe, just maybe, it would make Orli stop talking about glowing perfection.
It's purple again. Light purple, a bit on the pink-ish side maybe, and almost a perfect little oval. Pretty. Except, it's not right. Not at all. I don't like purple, I don't want it. It's *his* colour. Not mine.
I like it darker myself, like the tiny spots of lilac blossoming in the middle of this almost oval perfection. Little pinpoints of blood that's too near to the surface.
I could almost taste it. Almost like a plant sucking in water into its cells via osmosis. I wonder if I'm a carnivorous plant then. Could I flood my cells with Lij's blood? I'd probably die trying. Would it be worth it?
I tremble when I hear myself whispering, "Yes".
Lilac. Purple. Green. Yellow. Fade. Gone.
Orli's pretty strong for someone this skinny. I deserved it, I guess. After all, Lij's not mine to mark. Never was.
I understood that while I watched my bruises heal. Orli succeeded in turning my skin the perfect shade of lilac. I'm not sure what to think of it.
It all started with a glow. Red chinese lanterns, purple marks, lilac bruises. Doesn't make sense. For his skin still shines its otherwordly seducing siren's call.
End.
