Daddy issues || h.s

3.7

                 

                 

Red flames shot from her chest, the timbers in her lungs visible through her skin as she drew in sharp breaths. A bottle of red wine swung from her fingers, her lips wet from having kissed it.

As their eyes met, he felt the flames inside of him darken. They spread out all across his body, burning his fingers, glowing in his stomach. Smoke welled up in his throat, black, thick, filled with poison. He could not breathe, he could not think, so he ran towards the blue sky in her eyes and sucked in a breath of clean air as he dived into them.

She jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his torso as their lips left burn marks on each other. He slung her down on the kitchen table, her thighs quivering as they came in contact with the dark wood, an echo of his movements.

The fire between them burned so hot the flames turned white, and when she pulled his hair, the roar of the flames could be heard in the empty room as he let a deep moan escape from his lips. His warm mouth branded her skin as he moved towards her neck, biting the skin as he went along. She heaved for breath, feeling the flowers inside of them glow red and yellow as they were devoured by the blaze of the fire.

He ripped her shirt from her body, the fabric splitting beneath his burning fingers. She moaned and pressed her hips against his, the heat of the fire travelling downwards as she moved. Her shorts went down her suntanned legs, and his fingers ran up between them, the only place in her body where the flames could be quenched in water.

Her hands rested on his chest, it was rising and falling beneath her fingers as he drew in deep breaths. In one movement, as quick as a lynx, she tore his shirt wide open, the buttons scattering on the floor as the fabric left his body. His muscles quivered as she touched him, and the swallows on his chest batted their wings as she kissed them.

Soon his pants ran down his legs, pooling at his ankles as she sent them downwards. And as their underwear was torn away from their skin and fell to rest at the other side of the room, their bodies were left bare, the fire having burned everything else away.

He broke away from the kiss, feeling her thighs against his hips as he once again swam in her eyes. A soft "yes" left her lips, and as she nodded, his lips went back to hers.

Her nails dug into his back as he sunk in between he legs, and a gasp left her pink lips as she felt him inside of her. Their hips crashed against each other, and the table shook as she clawed at his back. Deep, deep her nails went, red marks appearing on his skin as their anger towards the world exploded within them.

She bit down on his lips, her teeth digging into the delicate skin. He growled, and his hands squeezed her hips so hard a sigh of pain left her lips. As their hips crashed together, she pushed herself off the table, and suddenly they were sprawled out on the floor. Pain shot up his back and mixed with pleasure as he felt her weight on top of him, her hips dancing as she threw her head back. The sound of her heavy breathing filled his ears, and his skin was glowing in the light of thousands of little fires.

As the flames inside of them got so hot they turned blue, he sat up, one hand pressing her hips against his own, while the other fell to rest around her throat. He felt her soft skin beneath his fingers, felt he pulse beat against his palm. Carefully, he stroked her neck, her collarbones and her jawline, the only caressing touch in the inferno of passion that radiated from their bodies.

Then sparks flew up from the fire and into the sky, illuminating the night, scattering across it, creating their own little galaxy in the midst of the universe. Her head fell on his shoulder, and heavy breaths fell from his lips as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Rough day?" He whispered, the small smile playing in the corner of his lips evident through his words.

"Yes," she whispered, her breath tickling his neck. And as they lay down on the floor and wrapped a blanket around them, their limbs were so thoroughly entangled, none of them knew where the smoking timbers of his limbs ended and hers begun.

None of them knew how long they lay there, but as the sun sunk beneath the treetops and her hand lightly stroked his back, new life came forth from the warm ashes in their chests. Canterbury bells, honeysuckle and white hyacinths, olives, laurels, orange blossoms and cherry blossoms, red roses, strawberries and peaches sprung out within them, and the insides of their chests had never looked so beautiful. Because there is no better place for flowers to grow, than in burnt soil.