Chapter 1: He will Keep his Promise Forever.
She didn’t know if she believed her own words, but she knew if neither her nor Elaine did, he would. He would always come. He always had.
She doesn’t remember ever feeling so entirely empty, but she knows there was a time before this when she was. She couldn’t quite recall when or how or who had trapped her then, but it was in the creases of her memory. Like a deep, hollow, pitiful feeling that brought her shoulders to shake and her resolve to splinter. She wanted to be stronger for her sisters lying beside her now. Their skin was grimy, their clothing torn, their bodies weakened by the torturous infliction of no food and water on their human frames. She wished she could tear the chains from the walls of the dungeons that kept her and hold them close. She didn’t want to feel the cold stone under her bare legs or the harsh magical steel tightening every time she felt a surge of her own power flowing through her. She was bleeding enough already from the wounds they had torn into her flesh, and she knew if she pulled on her bindings any harder the markings would only deepen. She had to bide her time now, she would be no use to anyone if she passed out from loss of blood.
At first, she had tried to keep track of the time they had been encased. She had tried to back track in her mind, remember the days before but everything felt the same in the cold, wet room. Margaret had even tried notching the ground with the cracked remnants of her nails, but for some reason the room kept shifting. It was as if they were being transported, Elizabeth could sense the magical energy moving them, but it was fuzzy and displaced. She wasn’t sure who was doing this and whoever it was as keeping themselves well hidden from her. It was probably one of the many reasons they kept moving. Another was whoever had them probably knew he could sense her; knew he would come for her; knew he wanted to find her as badly as she wanted to be found.
She tried to leave her magical signature trailing behind her but the steel that bound her would singe her skin leaving a raw burn bleeding under the tightening of the bindings. Still she tried to let her energy flow to her sisters, let her warmth caress their skin just to stop the chattering of their teeth and rattling of their fingers if only for a few moments. She knew Elaine was trying to do so as well but from inside the tightly wound vessel that contained her, she could barely send anything through the powerful walls at all. She too was being constrained by a great force.
By now, it seemed like a life time ago that they had been taken, she knew it had only been days at most but in a darkened pit with no life and no air, time was almost a figment of your imagination. She was left with nothing but dark days and her sister’s shallow breathing. She wanted to think about softer, warmer things. His hands, his smile, their freedom. But it always disappeared with the scraping of cuffs on stone and the painful gurgle of a hungry body.
So instead she tried to find her memories of how this happened at all. It had slowly been flooding her as she spoke with the young women pressed closed to her side. They had been in a garden Margaret believed. A garden with purple and blue hues all around them Veronica had reminded her. She could see his face almost clearly in her mind, but the green backdrop was obscured. Grass maybe? She wasn’t entirely sure. All she knew was that she had to get her sisters out of here before they completely withered. Her and Elaine could survive much longer in the depths of these walls, but they could not.
So, she plotted.
Eying Elaine every so often willing her to understand her plan, hoping she was able to hear her muddled thoughts through the thick prison that encased her. They watched the comings and goings of the guards; remembered the routines of ill-smelling scraps slipping through a rusted metal slot; heard the jingling of iron keys once every fourth shift change. Elizabeth played with the angling of her cuffs wondering if she pressed the raw skin into the steel just far enough if she would have enough time to let her ability overwhelm Elaine’s confinement before they crushed her bones.
She knew it was risky; knew it would leave her alone, paralyzed, in more pain than she could possibly withstand. She would be left to succumb to the anger and will of the monster that chained them. It left her filled to the brim with fear. But then, the empath inside her screamed out for her loved ones. She needed to help, needed to save, needed to protect. It was her solemn duty as an Apostle of the Goddesses. Her duty as their sister, their friend.
When the third shift change came around whatever day, she opened her mind as widely as she could to Elaine, and it was then that Elaine affirmed her. With a soft nod and curt scurrying to the farthest corner the plan was set. And it was to the bright, wide eyes of the Maiden of the Fairy King’s Forest she smiled softly, a message she hoped shined clear as day.
I will be okay. You will come back for me.
She didn’t know if she believed her own words, but she knew if neither her nor Elaine did, he would. He would always come. He always had.
On the fourth round with the jingling of keys and the shuffling of feet Elizabeth pulled her wrists back tightly enough and let the beams of ark light blast through her body. She willed her white light to wrap around the structure trapping Elaine and despite the thick purple smoke that began to fight her she shattered Elaine’s cage. The next few seconds were vital but the blinding crushing of the bones in her wrist’s left her falling into a void. As she slumped against the wall with the darkness invading her sight and the sounds of scuffling filling her ears, she wondered if they had escaped.
And then hoped, for everyone’s sake, they had.
The lifelessness of her body and the shooting pains in her wrists told her that although she had been healing, although her body had been reaching outwards to keep her alive someone had surely been reinjuring her for their own gain. She wanted to raise her slumped head, but the tired ache was so deep in her bones. All she could seem to register was that she was standing now. There were shackles wound around her ankles, more shackles tightening her shattered wrists, and even one clipped around her neck. The steel felt like it was burning her skin at a low rate, just enough to make her uncomfortable, just enough to keep her awake and keep her power at bay.
‘This form is the most similar to the first time we met'
The deathly, cold that seared her skin made her wonder how she hadn’t realized before who had captured her. Surely, it must have taken an incredible mystical force that had been keeping his intense presence and powerful magic hidden from her. She forced her eyes to narrow in on the voice across the room despite the raging of her body that willed her to rest, to heal. His presence was overwhelming although he sat less than a few feet away. They were in a place that mimicked her father’s throne room with high ceilings and golden decorum. However, it was the sigils surrounding them that caught her eyes, they were that of the Pendergast name.
‘He will not be happy with me when he sees you. You shouldn’t have forced my hand.’
It was a startling reminder of how similar he was to the man she loved. The curl of his hair, the soft slant of his features. It made thinking of him all the more apparent in her mind. So, Elizabeth closed her eyes to focus on her body. She could already feel the wounds that brought her the most ache closing again. There was a cut the length of her thigh that was closing, blood drying on its outer edges. There was bruising lining her ribs and arms that slowly faded from a deep purple to a soft yellow. The jagged ridges of torn skin across her sternum and right shoulder. Her wrists were mending once more, her head regaining focus, her bottom lip sewing shut. She was stretched wide, her arms pulled up, her legs pulled apart, her head yanked back. Almost like a target. His target.
‘That won’t do.’
With speed that should have terrified her but simply left her paralyzed and reeling, he had gripped the shackle that bound her neck and let his hand crush a single wrist once more. She wanted to hold her pain inside herself, not let him know how deeply he was causing her to fear for her life, but the shout that ripped from her throat reverberated around the room almost as loudly as the cracking of her bones. He pushed her head back until she was staring in his unyielding eyes with his hand callously gripping the metal shackling her throat. The burning sensation on her skin all the more painful.
‘Now, now. We can do better than that.’
She could feel his hot breath against her skin and the cold feel of his other hand moving to grasp her healed wrist. She could practically smell the stench of hellfire and utter hatred seeping from every facet of him. His body was alarmingly tall, dangerously fearsome and the black, barely blue of his eyes a harsh reminder of why she was here. She knew they had been together before, but it was not like this. Maybe a festival of some sort? She was sure she had seen him laugh and yet that memory faded to black at the harrowing sound of his voice.
‘We want my brother to find you love.’
He grasped her wrist tightly as the bones began to crack underneath the weight. She couldn’t help the blood curdling yell that tore apart her throat as he willed his pain to radiate within her. The breaking of her wrist made to feel like her body had been filled with a level of dark magic specifically quelled up inside him for her. A taste of coal in her mouth, a flash of the darkness he dared place within her crossing her vision.
‘That’s better. I think one more and he should crash right into our little space.’
Elizabeth watched him as he raised a glass blade from the sheath at his hip. It was beautifully crafted with a simple thin blade and a golden hilt. His fingers gripped the handle with a gentle familiarity and his other hand sought to graze her skin and pull her chin to level their eyes once more. She couldn’t help but notice how dark the purple hue that tattooed his skin had become, how black the symbol of the Demon King singed his soul.
‘He'll know it was me.’
He gripped her chin harshly and all Elizabeth could do was whimper as the steel shackles kept her magic tightly bound; marked her skin with fiery scars to remember them by. To remember him by.
‘You’ll tell him that when I am Demon King, he will keep his promise forever.’
The sneer that marked Estarossa’s face imprinted in Elizabeth’s mind. She had never felt something so tremendous; a statement he truly intended with every ounce of his dark magical spirit to keep.
‘Tell my brother I said hello’
As she stared into the eyes that should have reminded her of his brother, a man who would never dare bring her harm, she was left with a chill. That was until the glass blade tightly gripped in his hand was piercing into her stomach. Elizabeth could not control the anguish and rage that flowed from within her. The pain was unbelievable, unfathomable, unbearable. She could feel it in ever fibre that held her together, a never-ending wave of utter devastation worse than the reality of losing everyone she held dear. It was like she was reliving the worst pains her mind could imagine. Figments of her worst nightmare swirled in her eyes as a dark fog and she was suddenly surrounded by the bodies of those curled deeply within her heart. Their lifeless frames covered in their blood and her, stuck standing in place with nothing to do but stare, and scream.
The Sins surrounded her on demon spikes. Their bodies run clear through with a potent dark magical energy. He was there, his beautiful blonde hair matted to the grimy, sullen skin of his forehead. His eyes faded, each of his hearts pierced threw. He was strewn over rocks in pools of his own blood. She was left quaking as she screamed in horror, as tears flowed down her face.
She knew somewhere outside of herself that her blood was pooling below her and staining the tattered shards of her silk gown. It would nearly kill him to see. She knew because it was nearly killing her to have this imagine flooding her mind. She tried to break the fog that overwhelmed her with nothing but death, she willed herself to break that chains, to save herself from this trauma.
But all she could feel was the black hole swallowing her entirely.
Chapter 2: When We Tether Ourselves to Another.
‘Goddesses have been compared to stars for many centuries. Our powers are ethereal, celestial, we have this divine light within us that used to dance on our skin.'
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
She is moon soaked, and dawn flavoured. It has how he has always thought of her. She was kissed by the heavens and adorned in white light. In the years he spent wandering the earth after his curse had been named and sewn deeply within him, he was constantly reminded of her as the humans led festivals and built honours in the name of the goddesses. This her was most like the goddess he had first met with flowy silver hair and doe-like blue eyes.
But this Elizabeth reminds him more so of the sun as it rises in the moment that it kisses the dawn and he is always left wanting to bask in her glow.
And knowing he couldn’t, knowing that she was in pain for even a moment left him in agony.
He had always been able to hear her across their lifetimes; they were bound to find each other after all. He could feel every ounce of her when she was in pain, when she was hurting, when she wanted nothing more than to be soothed by his embrace. At first it had been a calming reassurance. If she ever needed him all she had to do was reach out, and he would protect her. He would come from any corner of their world, from any lifetime, for any thousands of reasons to quell her sorrow.
But it had become a curse.
The demons knew he had this sense, knew that by taking her and filling her with dread he would be driven to the brink of madness.
He had been searching for her for days and no matter how many sleeping draughts or how much he drove himself to the point of exhaustion all he could see behind the darkness of his closed eyes; all he could feel inside himself was her ache. She needed him, now more than ever, and his brother made sure he was left helpless. Every time he got close; she was gone without him taking a second breath. He could feel the magical signature she was leaving behind; it was so faint it was barely there but, it warmed him. Reminded him he still had time; she was still alive.
But it wasn’t until Elaine had appeared with the two other princesses in tow and her cheeks spotted with tears that he felt a twinge of hope. He wanted to grip her and drain her of information, but he knew, he knew his brother had inflicted something unimaginable and she would come to him as soon as she could. He watched as his friends as they collected their loved ones and let himself weigh down his wrath with the sounds of joy. As she would want him too.
He was reminded of how deeply he wanted to hold her as Gilthunder quickly raced forward to the sight of long indigo locks. He immediately took Margaret into his arms, holding her frail, weak body against his chest. Meliodas could almost feel the emotion welling up behind the stony face of the great Holy Knight. His lips pressed gently to her forehead, his hands grasping her frame.
He was reminded of how deeply he wanted to protect her as Griamore rushed forward with a blazing, guilt-ridden look across his features. The bright violet hair of the woman he had been sworn to protect for over a decade sending shockwaves of both relief and sorrow through him. He threaded his fingers softly over the smoothness of her hair and let apologies fall out in droves into her lap.
Both Margaret and Veronica’s bodies were encased in a soft glowing light, and he knew, he could simply feel that it was the remnants of whatever Elizabeth could send them with. Protecting them even in her own despair.
However, it wasn’t until Meliodas’ eyes waved over the scene that he felt himself overwhelmed. It was the softness of Ban that reminded him that he needed to focus on controlling his rage, on finding her. Ban’s face had been a shattered, broken, wreck these past weeks. He had been nearly ready to murder every living thing that crossed their path in the days since they had been taken. Meliodas had never related more. But now, as Ban wrapped Elaine in his arms within seconds of his eyes grazing her worn down frame, he thought of Elizabeth. As Ban gripped Elaine, as he held her tightly against him, as she shouted painfully, angrily into his chest. Her sobs about Elizabeth’s place, about her sacrifice, piercing Melidoas’ every nerve.
That was until the screaming in his ears began.
He thought he was going insane at the sound of the first ringing in his ears but then ...
They had begun moving immediately, Meliodas not even considering stopping to wait for the rest of them or explain how he knew in his bones it was a sound for him as he chased her soul crushing screams. The second time it rang out through his ears he could feel his skin prickling, feel the loss of control that threatened to drain him of every emotion outside of his wrath reaching its brink.
Her presence was stronger with every second he drew closer, with every intake of breath that drove him to run harder, move quicker, get to her sooner.
It was the final blow that had him swearing on his life and the life of every being the crawled out from the vile pits of the underworld to end this war for good. The moment he blasted through the space where she sat chained, he thought nothing could contain him. Thought nothing could bring him from the edge of levelling this space where his brother had tortured the woman he loved. He was brought back the images, the 106 moments that filled his every waking day. The lifeless corpses and eyes that no longer saw him; his power too ready to wreck havoc. To sink them into hell and tear apart his father’s soul.
But then he heard it.
Meek and soft, his eyes refocused from the image of her body shackled and bleeding and broken. The deep blue pool of a single eye through the slight part of her bangs bringing him to the center of his body.
He raced forward to pull the shackles from her body, to pull the knife from the way it twisted inside her. He let his fingers dance along the coldness of her skin as the chains dropped one by one. He slipped his fingers through her hair to turn the collar that bound her neck to dust. He let the glass blade slip from his fingers and turn to sand as it hit the stone floor. Her face was soon cradled in his neck, her hands piled into her lap as he curled her into his arms. He was holding her against him willing her to take whatever she needed from him, willing her to take the pieces of his life force that would strengthen her. But she didn’t. She simply smiled that soft warm smile that he had seen so many hundreds of times.
His heart, all his hearts, couldn’t bear that he had let her endure this. He knew the tears uncontrollably falling down his cheeks were dripping on her hair and catching on her skin. But the gentle touch of her fingers against the center of his chest left him speechless. Even in a time of utter wrath and pure, unadulterated hatred she thought of nothing but to give herself to him completely.
He had never felt more unworthy.
She awoke to warmth sheathing every fabric of her being.
She felt plush pillows beneath her head, gentle sheets wrapping around her body, a heavy blanket lovingly draped across her skin. The room smelled of lilac and sunshine. She felt a jostle beside her as she took a deep breath. She felt her eyes flutter open and turned to the welcome site of blonde locks leaning against the bed.
She opened her mouth to speak but she could feel a tingling coming from him. Deep in her skin she could feel the hatred spewing from every part of him. Hatred of his father, hatred of his brother, but most of all, hatred of himself. She wondered as she left her fingers curl in the soft locks of his hair, as she ached to reach inside him and caress the dark parts of his soul that dare threatened to take the goodness inside him from her, what she could do.
How do you remind a demon that he is not the worse parts of himself?
How can she remind him?
She leaned forward as he stirred once more, her legs curling next to her, her eyes focused only on him. His knees were on the floor, his head resting against the softness of the bed, his fingertips inches from her open palm. It was as though he dare not touch her, dare not infect her with the darkness within himself. But still she let her hands continue to curl through his hair, let them dance along the planes of his cheek and the curve of his neck. He let her thumb swipe the curve of his rosy lip and the sharp line of his jaw until he was opening his deep emerald eyes to peer at her.
She smiled softly as he rose from the ground, a look of sorrow written behind the joy in his eyes. She opened her hand for him and relished in the way his strong calloused palms ran against the smoothness of her own. She knew that right now there were no words she could express that would change his mind, that would dissipate the deep disgust he held for himself. So, she pulled him down next to her, his brief moment of hesitancy noted and his fear evident in the crease of his brow, but she needed him to know.
She led him to lie next to her, turning onto her side to face him as he did the same. She pushed the blankets back wanting nothing between them as she brought her fingers to run under the collar of his shirt. She was pushing her magic through her skin as she continued to move along his face, then his neck. As she undid the buttons of his shirt and softly trailed them along the hard planes of his chest. She was staring into his eyes as she did so, willing him to feel every ounce of the love she had been holding within herself for him for 3000 years.
He looked at her with wonder as she ran her fingers back up to his face and let them rest against his neck with her thumbs brushing along the high bones of his cheeks.
‘Goddesses have been compared to stars for many centuries. Our powers are ethereal, celestial, we have this divine light within us that used to dance on our skin.’
She lets her grip become firmer as she pulls herself closer, hoping his hands will find their way to run along her waist or brace her hips. But he keeps them hidden from her, keeps them bound to himself as if he is afraid to darken her even for a mere moment.
‘Now it only dances on our skin when we feel incandescent. When we tether ourselves to another wholly and completely.’
His eyes widen at her admission, his mouth opening slightly. She could feel the swell of his hearts beneath her fingers, the deep thrumming of his pulses. She knows that for a goddess to tether herself to an earthly being is a promise of pure commitment; of pure faith; of an unbound trust. She can see it in his eyes he knows it too.
‘No matter the pain of this life, our past lives, or the next, I will always be anchored to you. I have always been.'
Next Chapter: Explicit Sexual Content
Chapter 3: It’s Always Been You
He knows what she is asking and how could he ever deny her? When has he ever?
Warning: Explicit Sexual Content
Instead of sorrow, it is her that thunders through his veins with an unshakeable fury. Lips press deeply against his and then move to latch onto his throat in slow, languid kisses with her tongue catching his skin every so often. His breath is caught somewhere in his chest and he can do nothing but inhale her scent as her words entice every fabric of his being.
‘I have loved you’
Her lips graze his neck where it meets his shoulder and an unbelievable heat prickles him. Her breath softly dances across his face and his hands itch to slide up her arms. He wants to grip her hips and pull her to him as she looms over him like so many times before. He wants to feel the swell of her breasts and curve of her waist beneath him the longer her lips mark his throat. It isn’t until her fingers dance at the edge of his pants that he feels all breath in his lungs disappear.
‘I will always love you’
Then his hands hesitantly reach out for her, running along her arms and reaching her shoulders. He feels his hesitancy breech his mind once more, but then she is running her hands back up to grasp his throat and yanking their lips together. Her mouth overwhelms him as her tongue licks its way inside and he feels how hot her skin is as she moans into him.
He knows what she is asking for.
How could he ever deny her?
When has he ever?
He lets his hands pull off the familiar nightgown that hides her from him and at the sight of her bare before him, at her rosy cheeks and heaving chest, he feels unworthy. But then she is pushing back his vest and pulling at the belt that hides him from her. The glow that emanates from her skin growing stronger, warmer underneath his palms. A steady quiver works through her and the space between them is electric. She wants him pressed flush against her, he can see it in her eyes, but she seems determined to make them both wait.
Her hands smooth over his stomach and she pulls back from his lips once more. She leaves a trail of hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down his chest and along his stomach. Each touch of her lips leaves a soft glow that settles into him, softening his hard edges and filling the core of him with blinding white light. He can feel his back arching into her, following her lips without question.
Meliodas doesn't dare tear his eyes away from her the lower she moves; her hands are tightly gripping his hips, her tongue flicking out over his hot skin and her mouth trailing along the inside of his thighs. He reaches forward to run his fingers through her hair but is left gasping for air when she grips him, and then swallows him with one movement. She gives a gasp of surprise when the tip of him hits the back of her throat, and he jerks backwards, collapsing further into the bed.
The room is filled with his heavy breathing and sharp curses as she slides her tongue up the length of him, responding to the groaning breaking out from deep inside his chest. Her hand squeezes lightly where she grips the base, holding the length still as she swallows him over and over. She pulls her mouth away from him with a lewd noise, stroking him. Knowing him as she does, she wraps her lips around the opening and sucks gently. His hips lift right off the bed.
‘Oh fuck,’ he rasps, one of his hands reaching down to grip her arm, the other entangled in their bed sheets.
He tugs her hand away and pulls her up his body, leading her to wrap her thighs around his waist as he’s rolling her onto her back. His kiss is hot, firm, and needy as soon as he has her trapped beneath his arms.
‘It’s always been you’
He can’t help himself anymore. He has never been able to hold back. Not with Elizabeth.
His lips suck at the exposed skin and his hands grasp firmly until she’s dizzy with the feel of him. She’s floating at the sensation only he gives her. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, and he pulls her to him. His fingers are quick down her sides, smoothing across her stomach until they settle heavily gripping her backside. He grips tight, grinding against her and she can’t help the breathy moans. It’s intoxicating. Their kisses are messy the longer he delves his tongue into her mouth. Then he breaks away only to mark a path down her jaw and neck with heated, passionate kisses.
Her knees become unsteady and every feel of his skin against hers, every move of his tongue, sends her reeling. His arms wrap around her waist, her hips rock into him while he kisses from one breast to the other. The air stiffens with their heat as his gaze pulls her in. His lips move to suck marks into her ribs, her stomach, and his hands grope her flesh like he can’t ever get close enough.
She twists and moans as his tongue leaves a wet trail lower and lower on her body.
Meliodas looks up at her from under tousled locks and every feeling hangs in the air around her, “I need you.”
She can’t take her eyes away when he places his tongue on her clit and the rising heat coiling inside her pulls from deep within. She can’t take it as her back arches and her head leans up towards the sky like she’s praying. Meliodas holds her in place as his mouth works desperately; wet and lustful noises fill the air. He groans against her at the unbelievable noises breeching her lips and the feeling of his voice makes her ache. Her feet press against the bed as she rocks forcefully against his mouth keening for relief. Pleasure curls inside her as her back arches and she's almost ready to fall apart crying his name.
But Meliodas’ weight blankets her immediately; one hand intertwining with hers, lazy and breathless kisses trailing back up her chest. She opens her eyes as he slants his lips over hers, tasting herself against his mouth. He presses his hips down and she can feel him, hot and straining against her.
Her breathing turns ragged as he grinds downwards, sliding between her wet thighs. Her palms splay across his back. It’s like the room is filled with an effervescent glow and lightning can’t help but shoot between them. She catches the sound he makes when she pulls his lower lip between hers and urges him desperately to quell the raging inside her. Everything is desperate and needy. She wants him to want her and is willing to give him everything for it.
Her eyelids lower and her fingers tighten around his. Meliodas sinks into her slowly. Everything is too sensitive and nothing but hot, she can barely contain the rapid thrumming of her pulse. His girth pulses inside her and she sinks under an unbearable wave of lust and love. Her legs curl around his waist, her thighs tightening on his hips and from every jerk of his hips, every grip of his hands on the back of her thighs, she wants to stay here forever. He groans at the press of her chest against his, breathless as they move together. Her nails drag along his back as she bites down on his neck.
‘You are worthy’
Her shaky words are almost unbearable as he bends over her, palms flat against the mattress as he slams into her bringing them both to the brink. She is hardly able to breathe as everything inside her bursts and tightens around him. The pleasure is all consuming. Meliodas begins to gyrate his hips as he buries himself to the hilt while kissing her and murmuring something breathlessly that she can’t hear. She breathes deeply as she unexpectedly flips him beneath her. His dark gaze is stunned as her thighs brace him. She watches his eyes grow wide when she sinks onto him rocking her hips against him as his hands crawl along her thighs.
Then she’s twisting her hips, and he’s gasping for air as his hands pull at her. Her silver hair frames her face like a halo, her skin pulsating a glow he wasn’t sure could get any brighter and she begs him, ‘Touch me, please’
Instantly his hands roam everywhere, and his mouth is hot over hers as she rides him. She can’t hold back from shuddering around him as she cries out his name again. Almost as loudly as he calls out hers. The pleasure comes fast and leaves them exhausted. She leans over him until her chest rests against his, his hips still tentatively jerking as his cock pulses inside her. His eyes are so utterly focused on her and with a breathy whisper against her skin he smiles, ‘I am yours’
She holds him close as he slips from her, their skin cooling, gentle smiles filling the space between them.
He knows he is not worthy, but one day he will be.
For now, he is merely happy to be hers.