KIMCHAY - Traitors and Lovers

Chapter 5

Cool hands winded their way through soft chestnut curls, caressing each strand as if it were the most precious material that ought to be cared for, protected, hidden from danger in a world only consisting of rough hands with soft intentions.

Chay wouldn't mind being hidden.

He felt safe for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Here there was no war. No father. No anything. He was here, in this nowhere, where it was so empty, empty of sight, empty of thoughts, empty of everything.

Empty of everything except the feeling of those cool, rough, safe hands in his hair, lulling him into a state of willing surrender. Chay reclined back further against the abyss of nothing surrounding him. "I want to stay here forever." He spoke into the void.

The hands in his curled locs paused their caresses for a moment before venturing further down to the base of his neck, their path lighting a blazing ember beneath the boy's skin yet bringing a wave of cold throughout his body causing him to shiver. They continued their venture never pausing again, as if trying to memorise every inch of his skin through muscle memory, the soft intent never wavering, engulfing him into the abyss tenderly.

He let out a soft breath and inclined his head backward as the palms led their way to his Adams apple, lighting his skin of fire with every touch and making him even more hyperaware. The long digits pressing further and harder into his skin until they finally reached their target.

Thumbs were at either side of his jaw tipping his head even further back, index on his chin aiding in the process before leaving, opting for his throat. Two fists closed around it, not pushing, just resting there. He should be cautious, afraid even, those hands could close tightly around him at anytime and dim his light forever.

But Chay wasn't scared, wasn't even worried in the slightest. Why? He wasn't sure but, in this place, there was no space for thoughts only feelings and right now, engulfed in nothing, Chay felt so much. He felt safe, he felt protected, but he also felt desired, loved.

And those feelings are dangerous but apprehension stems from thinking and that was impossible in the void.

He also felt lust for something he couldn't place, something so large yet so small, something incomprehensible burnt his body from the inside like the spark of a flame in pure oxygen. He felt nothing more than want. And he wanted nothing more than to have those large, protective hands to close around him and press in deeply so he could finally feel to the greatest intensity.

He pushed himself ludicrously further into the cool hands which twitched in shock at his advance. "Please." Chay whimpered into the abyss not knowing of what he was wishing for. And surely it must have been his own mind playing tricks on him because behind him he heard what appeared to be deep, hard, laboured breaths yet preposterously quiet. But surely that was impossible since there was no behind just like there was no forward, it was only him and the nowhere.

But how could he have imagined it when there were no thoughts here.

The fists closed around his throat tight as he was harshly pulled backwards against something behind him, something warm and solid and safe. He felt protected, wanted and he yearned to feel like this for eternity.

Chay felt loved.

Then from the void of nothingness, located nowhere, where there couldn't be a behind or forward just an around, where nothing except Porchay himself existed, he felt warm breath tickle the back of his neck and felt deep voice resonate within himself somehow speaking from inside of him.

"You don't know what you're pleading for, Angel."

Chay sat up abruptly, sweat seeping down his neck, his breaths short and fast as his throat was enclosed by an unknown force. He looked towards the mirror in front of his bed and stared at his own reflection in shock. A rope of vines enclosing around his neck. He must have unconsciously conjured it while asleep and was dreaming. A dream which felt more provocative, more real, more alive than any other he had experienced. Yet a dream none the less.

The human prince immediately reached under his pillow for his dagger and swiftly cut throw the growth adorning his throat, it presently fell to floor beside his bed.

After closing his eyes and slowing his breathing he re-collected himself and looked back towards the floor of his bed chamber where flora of his own creation lies dead on the ground at his feet. Porchay reached down slowly to pick up the plant but just as he touched the thing his hand burnt at the contact. Whatever was going on, it wasn't safe.

After many years of training in and studying magic, Chay had an introspection and realised his magic had always stemmed from a place of innocence. His misplaced belief that there was goodness in everything and everyone from when he was a child had drawn him closer to nature when he was younger allowed him to tap into it's power easier than most. Even as he grew and became more aware of the realities of life, his magic still had it's foundations in the same place as when he was a child and in order to tap into it he needed to be in a peaceful and kind state of mind where the negatives of the world weren't in his mind.

However, that dream was different. The only innocent aspect was that he wasn't fully conscious of his own actions and interactions. But there was no kindness, no peace. He had felt like every nerve in his body was lit of fire, scorching him from the inside out and bringing him into a pit of fire filled desire in a way he didn't' even know he was possible of feeling before. And he had somehow created something magical from it.

He shook his head trying to get the memory of those hands cradling him, surrounding him, pressing into him, out of his head.

As he looked back at the vines scattered on the floor he observed them more closely and realised it was actually only a singular plant before he cut it. It had thin stem and appropriately sized leaves scattered neatly along it. In fact it looked pretty regular and unremarkable, well at least it would have, if it wasn't for their iridescent silver hue unlike any plant Chay had seen or read about, it's otherworldly colour might link to its burning capabilities, Chay had concluded.

The plant reminded him of something, but he just couldn't place it.

He looked down at the fingers which made contact with the vine and noted their red blistering state, at that thought, he looked back up into the mirror and was shocked to see that his neck looked completely free of marks.

Surely, the tightly wound vine which he had felt cutting into his air supply when he had first awoken would have left a impression on his skin. If not that, the volatile state of the plant which had burnt his skin in a different area would have left a stinging scar upon his skin of his neck, yet there was nothing but pale skin and the dark moles adorning it before his eyes.

And then suddenly, with a gasp, he realised what the vines reminded him of.

Kim's tattoo.

Kim.