Those who were taken...
They never came back, dragged beneath the waves never to return.
Their haunting screams were a symbol of their horrific deaths.
Like shadows they lay in wait, the deep blue waters hiding them from view.
With sharp claws they...
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~•~
Cally's fingers lace through Atlas's. Her fingers are soft and pliable against his rough callouses and once--sometimes twice--broken knuckles. Her thumb gently caresses the back of his palm, raising his hand to her lips.
She kisses his fingers sweetly then pulls his hand to her chest, hugging it close to her as a child would its doll. Atlas feels the beat of her heart against his palm, the steady thump a sound he enjoys even more than her singing. The rhythm is slow and relaxed, openly showing how comfortable she is with him. He remembers when her heart rate would skyrocket whenever she was in his presence, but now it seems to do just the opposite. That isn't to say he can't still make it race, though in a far different way.
Atlas detangles his other hand from her hair and sweeps her blonde tresses over her shoulder, exposing her back and neck to him. His lips soon find the base of her neck, pressing a lingering kiss to her sensitive skin. Cally shivers. Atlas smiles.
"If you hold my hand captive, it makes brushing your hair much more difficult," he murmurs against her skin.
Cally leans back into his chest, her head tilting to gaze up at him serenely. She smiles languidly, her eyes half-lidded. "I couldn't help it."
Atlas bows his head, brushing his cheek against hers. "I suppose I don't either, as long as I get to hold you like this."
Cally looks down with a blush, seeing his legs on either side of her with his chest pressed flush against her back. She had never sat with another boy like this, but she couldn't bring herself to care. This was Atlas--her Atlas.
Cally relaxes completely, her head falling to the side to accommodate Atlas as he peppers kisses all across her neck. Down the side of her jaw, on the space between her neck and shoulders, even in the hollows of her collarbones.
"Atlas?" She suddenly asks. The boy doesn't stop, just letting out a "Hm?" between kisses. "Where are your claws?"
Atlas sighs, nipping her skin gently with his teeth as a reluctant goodbye from her intoxicating flesh before raising his head back up. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I've seen you use them in your human form before, but they aren't here now," she says, touching her fingertip over his blunt human nails.
"I use them when I need them," he says. "They are still a part of me no matter which form I reside in. It's how I can still breathe underwater also."
Cally watches fascinatedly as sharp, black claws push through his nail beds. She runs her own hands over his, marvelling at the strange sight. Soon enough, his hands return to normal.
