06-28-2020, 02:21 AM
Their fingers entwined, and Valeriya was pulled around the trunk of Armande's hardened, muscled body. She smiled warmly when her great love laid all three of their hands together, and then suddenly, their surroundings faded to black.
She was near Rowan, cloaked in white and silver as pure as the moon. Valeriya was drenched in shadows obsidian as her hair. Each of them held a spool of thread that was being unwound quickly. The thread was pulled so hard, she could hardly hold it else it was wrenched from her hands. Following the line delicate as a spider's web, a pair of disembodied hands worked in the darkness. The hands were rugged, scarred, strong and swift. She knew with a look whose they were and her soul exploded with affection.
He worked the threads with grace and agility, throwing up the resulting pattern into the air over their heads. A pattern took shape into some tapestry that Valeriya squinted to behold. Then there was a ripping. She gasped and looked down at her dress, realizing that the thread now pulled from her very clothing. Soon she was completely unclothed, and she did not need to look to guess Rowan would be the same. From their very backs the tapestry was finished and the hands came forward, stretched out as though to choke her.
Instead, from the shadows emerged the rest of the body. It was Armande's. Svelt, muscular and beautiful. She stretched for him as well.
She was near Rowan, cloaked in white and silver as pure as the moon. Valeriya was drenched in shadows obsidian as her hair. Each of them held a spool of thread that was being unwound quickly. The thread was pulled so hard, she could hardly hold it else it was wrenched from her hands. Following the line delicate as a spider's web, a pair of disembodied hands worked in the darkness. The hands were rugged, scarred, strong and swift. She knew with a look whose they were and her soul exploded with affection.
He worked the threads with grace and agility, throwing up the resulting pattern into the air over their heads. A pattern took shape into some tapestry that Valeriya squinted to behold. Then there was a ripping. She gasped and looked down at her dress, realizing that the thread now pulled from her very clothing. Soon she was completely unclothed, and she did not need to look to guess Rowan would be the same. From their very backs the tapestry was finished and the hands came forward, stretched out as though to choke her.
Instead, from the shadows emerged the rest of the body. It was Armande's. Svelt, muscular and beautiful. She stretched for him as well.
The Eye of the Khylsty