Alecto Vermillio Raptis
✧
H
ow like ripe, fat fruit on Pravda’s lips apologies are! Stripped from his tongue as linens from a bed and Alecto has not been more amused in a great many days as he is in those moments before Pravda and Prigovora. The raptor, he will admit, is unsettling, but nothing more fearsome than a dragon by which he was raised near his whole life. Both are predators, ancient kin. Neither scale or tooth nor claw unnerve the man from a different land. As realization dawns on his companion’s face, Alecto cannot help the laughter that falls like rain from his throat. It is pulled as the strings on a harpsichord - artfully, smoothly, achingly haunting and soft. Like satin sliding against Pravda’s skin, Alecto’s voice is honey when sick. ”You think a complete stranger quite reasonable?” he pushes, holding back laughter on the edges of his smile.
With a shake of his head, the unicorn does not tell the other of the truth or folly of this statement. It rests between them as a casket opening, flowers stuffed into their mouths and sweets lain out as offerings.
And there is something incredibly sweet about Alecto when he runs his eyes over the curve of Pravda’s throat and slowly returns to the other’s gaze.
The shifting of skin has Privagora seated beside them both. One, terribly flustered. The other, horribly amused.
There is no room to let the mood drop, not as dark lips part not to decline, only to warn Alecto of the poor choice he’s making. At that, a single dark brow raises along with the right corner of his mouth. ”Is that so, Pravda” His name is a purr, and Alecto cannot help but to tease.
He moves nearer, daring to brush their cheeks side by side so that he whispers so near the other’s ear, ”I would so like to prove you wrong tonight, if you’d let me?”
No thought of if it is wrong or right. No ulterior motives nor suggestion. Simply one comment in exchange for another. And, if he’s completely honest as he rarely is, Alecto would tell you it is simply too fun seeing Pravda squirm as he does: as a fish caught on a hook, Alecto is not ready to let him loose.
So he does not.
He holds tight to the hook within his little fish’s mouth and watches that beautiful blush spread softly over the whole of his face. Beautiful. Alecto so rarely sees something so beautiful and untainted as that right there and he longs to devour it for all time - that single moment, that simplest of memories.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you
