rip and smash through the hornet's nest
do you understand I deserve the best?
but you'll do what I want, do what i please
and do it again til I get what I Need
do you understand I deserve the best?
but you'll do what I want, do what i please
and do it again til I get what I Need
Enrapturing. Every compliment that has ever been spoken to Fever is kept, wrapped up like a gift truffle, tucked away in a box and saved for a time when she would need to feel something: beautiful, lovely, gorgeous, and now enrapturing to add to her collection. While they were treasured and much appreciated, one day, all those words would feel weightless – after you’ve heard something your entire life it becomes meaningless. How long could she savor the admiration of her surface features? When would she hunger for something more? Today they sufficed.
The minx wonders if her great-grandmothers and their mothers before them ever turned down compliments. These concubines of a mad King – was their beauty a blessing, sparing them a harsh life? Or perhaps it was a curse to feel so caged, so confined to being only known for the way their skins prettily attached to their flesh?
Maybe that was why Fever is the way she is – their mistakes in revelry would turn into instinct instilled into her.
She still chose to revel in it.
With a tilt of her head, she would rip her gaze away from the stallion, to admire her own reflection.
“I care little if you hide the truth. It won’t matter to me either way. In fact, I believe I’ve given you the gift of choice. You can choose who you want me to see.” Pauses, aloof, her gaze returning to Jarek, like a game roulette and she is now sliding the gun to him. “What power –“ she would muse.
With enunciation on each word, she would repeat his sentiment. “You could be anyone you wanted.” A knife of a smile, yet she sheathes it as he closes the distance between them. She would allow him closer, curling into a doll-like stance, but would not take her eyes off him. He could still be a threat. She had yet to determine his place in her web. “Yes, lost: A lamb looking for a shepherd. A kitten seeking shelter. A butterfly in search of the right flower.”
@Jarek
The minx wonders if her great-grandmothers and their mothers before them ever turned down compliments. These concubines of a mad King – was their beauty a blessing, sparing them a harsh life? Or perhaps it was a curse to feel so caged, so confined to being only known for the way their skins prettily attached to their flesh?
Maybe that was why Fever is the way she is – their mistakes in revelry would turn into instinct instilled into her.
She still chose to revel in it.
With a tilt of her head, she would rip her gaze away from the stallion, to admire her own reflection.
“I care little if you hide the truth. It won’t matter to me either way. In fact, I believe I’ve given you the gift of choice. You can choose who you want me to see.” Pauses, aloof, her gaze returning to Jarek, like a game roulette and she is now sliding the gun to him. “What power –“ she would muse.
With enunciation on each word, she would repeat his sentiment. “You could be anyone you wanted.” A knife of a smile, yet she sheathes it as he closes the distance between them. She would allow him closer, curling into a doll-like stance, but would not take her eyes off him. He could still be a threat. She had yet to determine his place in her web. “Yes, lost: A lamb looking for a shepherd. A kitten seeking shelter. A butterfly in search of the right flower.”
@Jarek
i am a forest fire; i am the fire and i am the forest
and i am a witness watching it