embrace snippet
Jun. 26th, 2008 07:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrIt's weird. Normally I do not write well first thing in the morning. Of late, though, I've been doing precisely that.
Going to be late for work though, eep.
Stregoni shivered in the dark cold of the early morning. It was an hour he was truly beginning to hate.
His only other option, however, was to return inside.
He would rather freeze to death than listen to the haunting melodies played by a man who only used and discarded him. A man whose hot kisses always made him forget that they covered a cold heart.
The cold numbed, and he needed it. He ached inside and out, body thoroughly and almost savagely used, heart shredded all over again. Would he ever learn?
No, and he knew it, so he may as well stop asking himself that same damn question every time he gave in to the need to let Gille use him.
Why did Gille use him?
Probably, he just liked knowing he had that sort of power. Power was as natural to Gille as breathing.
Stregoni jumped at the sound of another's feet in the snow, spinning around – and drew up short.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked, trying for curt but not quite managing, still raw and shaken from his tempestuous interlude with Gille.
Francois shrugged. "I could not sleep. I wanted a walk. I do beg your pardon, Master Benefici."
Stregoni frowned. "Did you get Gille's approval?"
"I did not wish to disturb him," Francois said, then a cold smirk slid over his pretty mouth as he dragged his gaze slowly up and down Stregoni's body. "He seemed busy."
"Watch your tongue and manners," Stregoni said, the words lashing out.
Shame washed through him, but so did jealousy, white hot and bright.
Francois was beautiful. His hair was true black, fine and cut short to frame his almost pretty features. Though the moonlight was not enough to see them clearly, Stregoni knew his eyes were a breathtaking purple, richer than the finest dyes. Like Gille, he was tall and slender. Only Ruthven, Stregoni thought, could rival Francois in the beauty department.
Next to him, Stregoni felt truly ugly. He could not fathom why Gille touched him at all, except for the thrill it gave him to see Stregoni so low and desperate.
He didn't hate Francois for his looks, though. No, he hated Francois because for all he was a Pet, he was close to Gille. He shared Gille's bed, was treated with accord, went with him about the city and town, conversed with him a friendly manner…
Francois knew Gille in a way Stregoni never would, had Gille in a way Stregoni would never know.
"Get back inside," he said curtly. "Do not wander about without your master." Not waiting for a reply, he turned and stalked away, moving closer to dormant and frozen weeping willow opposite the small frozen pond that occupied this side of the house.
Going to be late for work though, eep.
Enchanter's Nightshade
(chapter seven)
(chapter seven)
Stregoni shivered in the dark cold of the early morning. It was an hour he was truly beginning to hate.
His only other option, however, was to return inside.
He would rather freeze to death than listen to the haunting melodies played by a man who only used and discarded him. A man whose hot kisses always made him forget that they covered a cold heart.
The cold numbed, and he needed it. He ached inside and out, body thoroughly and almost savagely used, heart shredded all over again. Would he ever learn?
No, and he knew it, so he may as well stop asking himself that same damn question every time he gave in to the need to let Gille use him.
Why did Gille use him?
Probably, he just liked knowing he had that sort of power. Power was as natural to Gille as breathing.
Stregoni jumped at the sound of another's feet in the snow, spinning around – and drew up short.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked, trying for curt but not quite managing, still raw and shaken from his tempestuous interlude with Gille.
Francois shrugged. "I could not sleep. I wanted a walk. I do beg your pardon, Master Benefici."
Stregoni frowned. "Did you get Gille's approval?"
"I did not wish to disturb him," Francois said, then a cold smirk slid over his pretty mouth as he dragged his gaze slowly up and down Stregoni's body. "He seemed busy."
"Watch your tongue and manners," Stregoni said, the words lashing out.
Shame washed through him, but so did jealousy, white hot and bright.
Francois was beautiful. His hair was true black, fine and cut short to frame his almost pretty features. Though the moonlight was not enough to see them clearly, Stregoni knew his eyes were a breathtaking purple, richer than the finest dyes. Like Gille, he was tall and slender. Only Ruthven, Stregoni thought, could rival Francois in the beauty department.
Next to him, Stregoni felt truly ugly. He could not fathom why Gille touched him at all, except for the thrill it gave him to see Stregoni so low and desperate.
He didn't hate Francois for his looks, though. No, he hated Francois because for all he was a Pet, he was close to Gille. He shared Gille's bed, was treated with accord, went with him about the city and town, conversed with him a friendly manner…
Francois knew Gille in a way Stregoni never would, had Gille in a way Stregoni would never know.
"Get back inside," he said curtly. "Do not wander about without your master." Not waiting for a reply, he turned and stalked away, moving closer to dormant and frozen weeping willow opposite the small frozen pond that occupied this side of the house.
