My last girl was practice for the real thing baby

I am the conquerer, get out of my waY


here they sat, alone under the moonlight. looking at one another within the heat of the moment; Passions unveiled and confessions spoken sincerely. she looked at him, studying his soul and trying to find something to fear and doubt. but she would find none. Érebos would adorn her in every way, holding her up like a trophy for the world to see. dearest medusa, looking at him with innocence and not much to say. unassuming beauty who sat on the bleachers far too long, he wanted her tenfold with a fiery passion that threatened to consume her whole and provide her the experience of a true love story had she allowed him to. he found her beauty evident in every expression. her sex appeal coming off in ways he wasn't prepared for-, his eyes trailing over her eyes.. then her lips.

she accepts his kiss. and while they stare at one another, he says, "remember the favor I would ask for later?" he looked at her azure gaze. "I want to ask you to trust me." not what widows says, not what any one says. but to genuinely let him in. "Medusa, be with me." his baritone voice sailed out over the air between them as it rippled around them. he could nearly hear her heart beat.

to which then, she'd suddenly come forward with an opened maw. she held him this way for a moment and he closed his eyes, enduring it with care and gratitude to have been the object of her own affection for the first time. he savored it, his tail coming to wrap around them. she pulled back then and he looked at her with a lazy, soft gaze. as if in trance to her. "I'm glad you understand." he sighed, relieved and waiting on her response. falling for her was never intended.. neither was the day they met.



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