Her lips tasted like midnight. Cold and with a taste of bitterness, blackberries and the smell of rain. Her hands gripped my neck, fingernails cutting patterns into my skull. She bit my lip and pulled me closer, not letting me savor this for a minute. She never knew how to share, she had always taken and taken. And I had always let her.
I could never resist the way her soft lips parted and her brilliant dark green eyes. She could pull me back to her with a snap of her hair band on her wrist and smirk. Her hair bands were always green, she wore only black and let her own cunning color her. She let one of my hands drag down her spine, feeling the bones popping and snapping under my touch.
She arched and breathed into me. Sucking me out and letting out a moan. I cupped her back and let the wish take me away. Let me forget the demands that ruined me outside of this room. Let my body mingle with hers.
After she left with a small, soft smile. A first step into winning back here, with her. She always saw the end game, the checkmate, the last one standing. She never saw me waiting.
She thought that she must work for everything and that the world owed her nothing less. I was nothing but her favorite knight to play, a cracked, lusting, wanting, needing knight that didn’t know how to let go. I gave up for her and let the seat next to me at dinner remain empty. I let her laugh and flirt with barely a second glance, but a burning heart that pounded away letting me know how much green and black now meant to me.
I let her suck on my throat. Let her sharp teeth leave marks, lashes across my chest with her tongue. She could make me weak and beg without trying, yet she never stopped trying, she let me drag and whine.
She laughed into my breast and left searing smiles in my heart, and I let her. Her smile after was always worth the wait until next time, was worth the games, worth the tight hold of red and gold. She, with silver words and green grins, bewitched the witch in me to stay.
She couldn’t tell me, anything. Not tomorrows plans or the next time her hair would fall free and I would fall after her. She never told me much but what I heard. She spoke in cool toned words, neither dark or warm. Simple, false.
She knows how people looked at her when she had managed to subvert their question, she knew how badly I want a bend, true answer. She still did care, if she did it was hidden behind dark gestures and lying, misspoken to the point of truth.
She could- and had- warped me. Told me lies that were true and truths that were lies. She had lifted the curtain on what was right and wrong and pointed out the gray. The still and virtuous. The lion and the snake living in gray, but still seeing shades of green and red.
She wore red. A dark sleeveless dress that hung off of her collar bones. I wanted to get on my knees in front of her. But she had brushed me off with a hand to bangs and a time.
I had worn green, and let it mix with her eyes. Let her take off my dress with her eyes and champagne flutes. When she kissed me it tasted like a privilege I had never had and something I had dreamed of.
She pulled and tucked at my edges, they came apart in her hands. Falling and weaving between fingers and black nail polish.