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He tasted blood.
Could feel the ferrous liquid coating his teeth and tongue, dripping from his lips as the taste became too strong to bear.
It hurt to breathe.
He could feel the hole in his stomach and the wound in his throat, burning with every desperate inhalation.
Warm hands landed on his shoulders, gently pulling him back into a restraining embrace.
"There there, sweetheart. I know it hurts, I know. But I won't let you suffer alone."
He could feel the hot breath of the voice's owner against the his ear as the pain in his neck flared with the sense of something being pulled from his flesh and bone.
"Not like how you made me suffer."
Despite the pain, he couldn't help but scream.
The sense of fire burned through his every nerve, and he heard laughter through the haze. Firm hands kept him restrained even as his muscles tried to convulse. Kept him pinned. Kept him close. One hand drifted to the wound in his neck. A careful finger ran along the edge of the wound, as though making a vain attempt to wipe the ceaseless blood away.
But then a kiss was pressed to his cheek.
The only warning before the fingers at his neck curled into--
Avin jerked awake, chest heaving and face pale as he lurched into a sitting position.
It wasn't the first time he had such a dream.
Trembling, he slowly raised a hand to his throat, searching for a bleeding wound that wasn't there. But even in the absence of that dream-born pain… still a handprint curled around his throat. The mark warm to the touch, laughter echoing in his mind as his fingers brushed it.
: Trouble sleeping, sweetheart? :
Avin bit back a whimper as he pulled his knees to his chest, desperately trying to ignore the honeyed voice in his mind. He should have never tried to play both sides. He felt a phantom hand begin to caress him, even as the mocking words continued to echo. It was hard to remember that the thoughts weren't his own.
He wanted to curl back up against Doc, the serpent still asleep and slightly curled around him. But he couldn't. He just couldn't. Even were he able to sleep, he feared his torment spreading. Spreading as though it were a disease. No, it would be smarter to carefully crawl from the bed, leaving his partner undisturbed.
Yet all he could do was dig the heels of his hands into his eyes and bite back a sob.
He couldn't show weakness.
The voice in his mind continued to laugh.
In which Avin really begins to come to terms with the surest way to ensure he'll never get a good night sleep again was to make what amounted to a demon deal with Ward's vengeful spirit. It's a complicated tale and decision, to be sure.
Could feel the ferrous liquid coating his teeth and tongue, dripping from his lips as the taste became too strong to bear.
It hurt to breathe.
He could feel the hole in his stomach and the wound in his throat, burning with every desperate inhalation.
Warm hands landed on his shoulders, gently pulling him back into a restraining embrace.
"There there, sweetheart. I know it hurts, I know. But I won't let you suffer alone."
He could feel the hot breath of the voice's owner against the his ear as the pain in his neck flared with the sense of something being pulled from his flesh and bone.
"Not like how you made me suffer."
Despite the pain, he couldn't help but scream.
The sense of fire burned through his every nerve, and he heard laughter through the haze. Firm hands kept him restrained even as his muscles tried to convulse. Kept him pinned. Kept him close. One hand drifted to the wound in his neck. A careful finger ran along the edge of the wound, as though making a vain attempt to wipe the ceaseless blood away.
But then a kiss was pressed to his cheek.
The only warning before the fingers at his neck curled into--
Avin jerked awake, chest heaving and face pale as he lurched into a sitting position.
It wasn't the first time he had such a dream.
Trembling, he slowly raised a hand to his throat, searching for a bleeding wound that wasn't there. But even in the absence of that dream-born pain… still a handprint curled around his throat. The mark warm to the touch, laughter echoing in his mind as his fingers brushed it.
: Trouble sleeping, sweetheart? :
Avin bit back a whimper as he pulled his knees to his chest, desperately trying to ignore the honeyed voice in his mind. He should have never tried to play both sides. He felt a phantom hand begin to caress him, even as the mocking words continued to echo. It was hard to remember that the thoughts weren't his own.
He wanted to curl back up against Doc, the serpent still asleep and slightly curled around him. But he couldn't. He just couldn't. Even were he able to sleep, he feared his torment spreading. Spreading as though it were a disease. No, it would be smarter to carefully crawl from the bed, leaving his partner undisturbed.
Yet all he could do was dig the heels of his hands into his eyes and bite back a sob.
He couldn't show weakness.
The voice in his mind continued to laugh.
In which Avin really begins to come to terms with the surest way to ensure he'll never get a good night sleep again was to make what amounted to a demon deal with Ward's vengeful spirit. It's a complicated tale and decision, to be sure.
Category Artwork (Digital) / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1280 x 1280px
File Size 675.2 kB
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