these wings are made to fly

He had made up his mind and he knew that in the long run it would cause more trouble, but this was not an ordeal he had to question himself over, this were worth it and it would forever be worth it. Chrysanthe: his salvation in a world so cold. An almost feral glint would spring to life in his powerful glare as she ascended before him, her crysalline gaze something he dare not avoid, and his trepidation firing through him wildly. How she had grown...she were mature in the most prominent of ways. Where she were once an innocent, matureless, lady, now she were a beacon of elegance and persuasion. His.

So sure of himself he would move towards her, salivating at the mere hunger her presence instilled in him, for she were absolutely ravaging. His eyes fell over her, and his ears slammed back against his head as her solemn apology slipped from her inky lips. Slavering were his jaws as he ascended beside her, his head raising over her shoulder and twisting to lay across her shoulder blades. No longer would she bare the weight of trying to make their relationship work alone. He were here and he were going no where.

Tail pulled against his muscular thighs as the man breathed her in with fervor. His eyes fell to her side and he whispered with admittance to her in perfect clarity, "You, I've decided, will be my only," forever and ever. He would push himself, ravage his mind, to make them work for only each other. While his heart believed a man capable of loving more than one woman, he would bring about a new sense of entitlement, he would force himself to want her and only her, and in such actions, he would hope his feelings would only be emphasized.


There were still many steps he would be forced to take to be ready to serve only her side, and fact of the matter were, he were ready for such and with time he would make that known to her.