Do Not Go Gentle

Chapter 5

{ We cry as Sinners to the Lord, salvation to obtain; it is firmly fixed, his holy Word. Ye shall not cry in vain. }
- Jupiter Hammon

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"No, no. This is all wrong."

I mutter, my words getting muffled by the slick wood of my desk and my wool sleeve as I lay me head down on the surface. There is an endless pile of papers stacked haphazardly upon the oak, their loose leaflets reminiscent of butterfly wings and lily pads swinging in the restless air. But the air is still, it's choking aura in a mess that binds my ribs together and prevents me from breathing.

The suffocating stiffness is only increased by the silence that follows. My ears perk up, searching for a noise to hear. Even a pin dropping would be enough the stimulate the overwhelming stillness. My skin begins to prickle as the air grows cooler, the sun moving behind a grey raincloud. I wish for the rain to never end; to flood out this wretched house and its wretched master, taking everything and demolishing it with them.

"What is all wrong, Master?"

My dream is short-lived as I start, quickly glancing up to see Sebastian standing beside me. I let my breath out slowly through my nose, looking back towards the wood desk that holds so much sadness. How Sebastian has appeared so quickly and soundlessly seems irrelevant, and I stay silent. I sit there with my legs crossed and my elbows on the desk, my hands laced together like a prison... laced together like a prison that holds everyone who's ever laid their filthy hands on my name.

"Nothing. I just need to rest for a bit is all."

I say, my eyes unmoving from the spot of the papers they're glued to; a random spot which looks fuzzy to me, little spots of ink splattered on the edges.

"Very well."

He replies,

"Shall I fix you some tea to help you relax a bit more?"

I almost scoff at that remark. He knows very well what I need in order to relax, and he knows very well that is it him. I hold my tongue. I hold it tight.

"Yes, that would be nice."

As I stand, it all happens in an instant. He places his fingers under my chin and tilts my head up to his as I rise, his other arm barely snaking around my waist delicately. He leans down like a shadow, his hair falling from behind his ear to mask the smirk I know he is hiding. He's always wearing that mask. He masks it all from me. He masks the fact that he is toying with me as he presses his lips to mine softly.

He presses his mouth to mine so softly... so soft it breaks my heart more and more with each little kiss he gives me. His kisses are so sweet as his mouth begins to move against mine with more pressure, and it is as if he is caressing my very being with his tongue as I invite him in to my mouth with a welcome sigh. I always welcome him. I should not, but I always do. This time, though, I do begin to struggle against his grip a bit, slightly pushing against the buttons of his shirt, attempting to mutter a little 'no' or some kind of defiance that would not ultimately lead to my corruption. I know that I have already lost this game of his. But anything I have to say is muffled by how warm he is... by how much I am utterly sinking into his touch. The feeling of his lips against mine overwhelms all coherent thoughts as my lips begin to search for his.

I feel as though I am melting into him as his arms wrap around me tighter, pulling me towards him. I cannot help but to grasp his tailcoat with one desperate hand, the other hand searching for his hairline to sink my fingers in to the ebony crowning his head. My hips press against his and I am ashamed when I little mew escapes my lips.

His tall stature picks me up by my thighs, setting me on the counter and sending my stack of insect wings and ink stains to the floor. He lays me back on the now clear wood, looming over me with an endearing wrath as he continues to kiss me slowly, drawing out every inch of willpower from my bones. Sebastian, my savior... Sebastian, the corrupt and corrupted kneads his fingers into my flesh, sliding his hands along my leg.... down my side and through my hair. He removes my eyepatch slowly, moving his mouth down to my neck and shoulder, lifting up the small of my back and sliding my overcoat away from me.