Haley Thistle
patreon
Kipine Boyfriend: Enoch (complete)
🕑 Added 2020-06-15 19:00:02 +0000 UTC
Growing up in Hearthway Hollow, you couldn’t have asked for a better childhood. You felt safe there, especially after spending your first few years in hiding. You and your father had to be kept secret, because your mother was part of a pack of werewolves who despised humans. When your sister was about to be born, your family fled to Hearthway Hollow. There, you were able to have a somewhat normal existence.
You have three siblings, your sister and two little brothers. All three of them turned out to be werewolves, but you are not. Your siblings went on to perform the Hearthway Hollow courting rituals, which you were extremely happy for. You love being an aunt and having a big family, but you can’t shake the feeling that Hearthway Hollow isn’t for you anymore.
You feel a calling for something beyond your home, but you could never muster up the courage to get up and do it. You’ve been working in the art department of the college, as well as curating the temporary art exhibits at the museum. Every time a new exhibit comes in you are enthralled, and when they leave, that feeling returns, urging you to go with them.
“The carnival is coming back,” your sister says excitedly one day.
You look up from your breakfast and follow your sister’s pointing finger to the window where the poster is prominently displayed. That’s when lightning goes through your veins, and you feel more alert and sure than you ever did. You will leave with the carnival.
You go to Mrs. Locklear, who has been friends with the carnival’s leader for ages, and ask her if it would be possible to join them. She just gives you a look. For a moment, it is quiet as she starts to smile. “The carnival is for anyone. Authaire is not picky about who he takes under his wing, just so long as they need him. Do you need him?”
You frown, picking at the loose thread at the hem of your cardigan. “Not so much him as I just need to get out.”
“Get out?” Mrs. Locklear leans her head to one side. “Is there something you’re running from?”
“Not exactly, but I’ve felt the need to go somewhere for a while now. It’s like whenever the wind shifts, it’s telling me to go somewhere else. I love Hearthway Hollow, and I always have, but it’s just...”
“It’s your time.” She nods her head in agreement. “If you need to go with the carnival for a while, then go. I’ll talk to Authaire about it when he comes to visit.”
Over the next couple of weeks, you get things in order. You put in your notice at your jobs, then have a long talk with your family. They’re shocked, of course, but understanding. Your father is the most worried, and feels you’re just running away. This could be true, but you haven’t felt this sure about a decision in a long time, and you know it’s for the best.
You meet with Mr. Faire, who offers you a choice of jobs within the carnival. Given your art skills, you could go into set design and advertisements. He even offers you the opportunity to work on a new attraction. “It’s something that I’ve been building up to for a while now. We just haven’t had the time to try it. It’s our busiest season, you see. But the idea has been rattling around for some time.” A big smile grows on his handsome face. “But I see now that we were just waiting for you.”
You’re not sure why the words fill you with as much joy as they do, but you are more certain than ever that you should join him.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with Scarebrooke,” Mr. Faire continues. “Well, it just so happens that a new part of the mausoleum has opened up, and I think it would be perfect for a sort of art exhibit.”
“A haunted one, I’m assuming,” you giggle, thinking you’ve made a perfect joke.
Mr. Faire nods his head excitedly. “A friend has offered me such wonderful artwork! It would be perfect.”
Wait, is he serious? Does he actually have haunted or possessed works of art just lying around? You aren’t sure how to respond, so you just continue to smile.
Mr. Faire gives you a tour of what is to become the haunted art exhibit, a long, crooked hallway which feels as if it goes on forever. All part of the carnival’s artifice, no doubt, but you can’t figure out how the building looks so small from the outside, and so vast from within.
Considering that the carnival is going on hiatus soon for the winter and holiday season, Mr. Faire offers you a home in Scarebrooke. This gives you time to finish packing and settling business, so you agree.
You meet with the leaders of Scarebrooke, Bram and Coraline, who help you find a place to stay. It’s one of the main street buildings that looks old and abandoned, and another building that looks small from the outside, but much bigger inside. Inside it’s very nice, warm, and welcoming. You get the attic apartment, which is more than enough for you. It’s an open space, save for the bathroom, with two stained-glass windows on each side.
Just before Scarebrooke is to take to their permanent residency, you go to meet your co-curator for the haunted art gallery. His name is Enoch, and he’s head of the arts programs within the carnival. He designs most of the posters, as well as half the sets.
You consider yourself a fairly tall lady, but Enoch towers above even Mr. Faire, thin and rakish, dressed completely in black. He has on a hoodie with the hood pulled over his head, a blazer and crisp dress pants. On his feet he wears high heels, something that probably adds to his height. But that isn’t even the strangest thing about Enoch; it’s the mask he wears, stark white and shiny, shaped like the face of a barn owl. His height, stature, and the mask make him look like a towering cryptid.
“I think you two will get along just fine!” Mr. Faire says excitedly. “You’re both wonderfully creative people, so you must have lots to talk about.”
You look at Enoch, unsure if he is looking at you or staring off into the distance while his mind wanders. “It’ll be nice getting to know you.” You offer your hand to Enoch.
His head tilts down and he takes your hand. His long, long fingers wrap around your palm and give you a gentle shake. “I am always eager to meet someone else who adores art as much as I do. I am usually bored out of my mind during the winter hiatus, so I am looking forward to all of the work we will be doing together during this one.”
His voice has a rasp with a sort of crackle at the end. The way he speaks, though, has a certain elegance to it, a level of poise and discipline. In a way, you’re excited to be working with Enoch. He’s different, and you enjoy that.
Once Scarebrooke is settled for the winter and you’re able to unpack, you spend your first week getting to know your new home. Scarebrooke grows as it settles in. There are a few more stores there now, including a grocery store and pharmacy. Some parts of the town grow as well, and they look more real than they did in the carnival.
One afternoon as you take some trash out to the curb, you see Enoch standing at the corner. You wave, then wonder if he’s even looking at you. It’s so hard to tell with that mask on. When he approaches, you suddenly realize how you’re dressed, wearing old sweats covered in paint and stains, and a ragged, baggy t-shirt you’ve tied at the front. Your hair is forced into a sloppy, oily bun. You’ve not washed your hair in a while.
“How is the move coming along?” Enoch asks.
“Moving right along.” You want to smack yourself, then try to cover your horrible pun. “I’m almost done. I’m looking forward to going into work on Monday now, actually. I’ve not left the place much at all since I got here.”
“I much prefer my home to anywhere else,” Enoch replies. “But I must admit, my imagination has been running wild lately. I have so many ideas for the new exhibit. I certainly hope I do not overwhelm you.”
“Ideas are good,” you say with a smile. “I’ve got a few of my own, but since I haven’t seen any of the artwork yet, I’m not sure where to go with them.”
“You’ve not seen any of the collection yet?” Enoch is aghast. “You simply must see some of it before Monday.” He points across the street. “Let me take you over and show you some of the pieces. I think it will really help your ideas flow.”
You look down at yourself, then back at Enoch in his ironed and tailored clothing. You had hoodies before, but none that look like they were made exactly for you. Neither have you been so confident as to wear high heels that look more expensive than your soul.
“I’m not exactly dressed for that. I’m a mess.”
“Art isn’t created to be admired by the well-dressed.” Enoch flourishes. “If it makes you feel any better, most artwork doesn’t even know what you’re wearing.”
You adjust the coke-bottle glasses on your nose. “I guess that’s true.”
Enoch nods and folds his arms behind his back. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but I think it will benefit you and your creativity to see even a sample of what we have to work with.”
You let out a long sigh. “I do really want to see it. I’m curious about the artwork here, or at least what Mr. Faire collects.”
“Wonderful!” Enoch stretches an arm out and offers his hand to you. For a moment, you’re uncertain you should take it, but you realize it’s a gentlemanly gesture when you cross the street. You half-suspect that had there been a puddle, he would have laid his blazer down for you to walk over.
He takes you back into the mausoleum hall, where there are crates waiting. Against one wall is a line of paintings that have been opened and propped up. Each one, at a glance, appears like any other painting. There are a couple of portraits that look like sisters, a large landscape of a forest setting, and a still-life of a bowl of fruit. The closer you look, though, you find that each one has something strange in it. The sister paintings appear human at first, but the more you look, the more you notice that the girls’ shapes are formed from other images - faces made from beetles and ants, the lips from moths, hair from dripping wax. The landscape moves. You see creatures roaming around in the brushstrokes, and something crawls from the lake in the distance and falls off the frame. The bowl of fruit is actually a person, their body twisted and positioned to resemble the fruits and contours of the bowl.
“We have more, of course,” Enoch says. “These are just the ones I couldn’t help but open to look at.”
“Are these ones haunted?” you ask.
Enoch motions to one of the paintings, then kneels beside it and dusts the top of the frame gently with a sweep of his hand. “The landscape is. It’s cursed. Or at least, the lady who lives in it is cursed.”
“The lady?” you gasp in surprise.
Enoch nods. “You’ll see her every now and again. She’ll come into the painting and wander around the trees, perhaps sit at the lake.” He tilts his head to the side. “She’ll watch us the same way we watch her, waiting for the day she can join us.”
“Why is she cursed?” you ask.
“She was sleeping with a witch’s husband.” Enoch stands unceremoniously. “I’d say the husband should have been cursed too, but I don’t know the full story.” He turns to face you. “You’re from Hearthway Hollow, right?”
You’re still a bit shocked by the story of the painting, and it takes you a few moments to answer him. “I… yes!” You push your glasses back up your nose again.
“Lovely town. I love the traditions there,” he sighs. “Also the best coffee I’ve had outside of Paris.”
“Caffeine addict?” you chuckle.
He hangs his head shamefully. “Nothing compared to Mr. Faire, mind you, but I absolutely cannot make it through a day without some form of coffee bean inside me.”
You giggle. “I have an extra coffee press and some coffee beans from the cafe. I can bring those in to keep here while we work.”
Enoch clasps his hands together. “Then we are kindred spirits!”
There is a small room off the hallway that you and Enoch have made into your office. When you walk in on Monday, you see that Enoch has already designated one corner the coffee bar. He’s brought in a collection of mugs, a sugar bowl, a small fridge with various creamers, and a wide variety of coffee and tea.
As you’re setting up the coffee press and kettle, Enoch’s high heels click-clack down the hallway, and you turn to greet him as he walks in. You’ve gone the extra mile of styling your hair this morning, and you left it in a braid all night so the freshly-washed locks fall in a cascade of waves around your face. You’ve also put on some makeup, and you feel a little glamorous today.
Enoch stands still with his hand pressed to his chest. “My, my, I was not expecting a vision today.”
Your heart leaps. Laughing nervously, you glance aside. “Last time you saw me I looked like a goblin.”
“Even they have their charm and beauty.” Enoch’s voice sounds dreamy as he comes into the room. “But you’ve transformed yourself into a samovila overnight.”
You furrow your brow. “What’s a samovila?”
Enoch stands over the coffee press and glances back your way, clearing his throat. “Something lovely. Not to give myself away, but... ” He starts the kettle and motions to the supplies he brought. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I sort of went overboard.” He clears his throat again. “Let’s begin work, shall we! I do hope you were better able to form your ideas.”
“I was. I even did some research.” You walk over to the desk and pull out your sketchbook. “Since this is a haunted gallery, I was thinking that we arrange our more possessed pieces like a song.”
“A song, you say?” Enoch turns from making his coffee.
“Yeah, for pacing. You want to disperse everything so it flows well. Like, I thought we should place some pieces at the front that make people question. Is it scary? Is it not scary? And then slowly we build, bringing in more and more uncertainty. Then the crashing crescendo, assuring that the gallery viewer has to run through the rest of the hall. Then a lull, a moment of respite and melody, and then another crash!”
Enoch nods his head excitedly. “There are some suits of armor that will be just perfect for this. We can have them stand still at the entrance and secretly follow the guests the entire time!”
Your eyes light up and you break into a grin. “There are suits of armor?”
Enoch claps his hand together. “They just got delivered last night. Would you like to go meet them?”
“Yes!” you gasp excitedly.
You and Enoch spend the rest of the day getting to know the artwork. Some have been donated by friends of Mr. Faire, or come from his own personal collection. The suits of armor are from different parts of the world, but have all known each other a long time. You feel odd talking to paintings and having them respond, and even shaking their hands, but all the while you feel nothing but joy.
As the day comes to an end and you and Enoch are settling on ideas, you realize you’ve not felt that nagging feeling once all day.
You’re starting to clean up the desk when Enoch takes his mask off. For a moment, you don’t look - you just stare at the mask he sets down on the table. Then you glance up to see his fingers brushing away his long black hair. His skin is pure white, with pitch-black freckles all over his face and neck. He has piercing black eyes that are perfectly round and surrounded by pure white lashes. His nose is long and hooked, and his cheekbones are high and sharp. His appearance is striking, but not one you’d consider worth hiding.
Enoch looks at you and smiles softly. “Wearing it is a comfort for me,” he says. “But since we will be working close together, I want to learn to be myself around you without having to hide.” He clutches his mask in his hand again. “Although, this is a glamour. It will take time for me to show you the other side of me.”
“You don’t need to worry about that.” Your face is burning. His expressions are so sweet, and you find him strikingly lovely. “As long as you’re comfortable and happy while we work, that’s what matters most to me.”
Enoch smiles. “I know you’re used to werewolves, but I hope you can grow used to me.”
You want to ask him what he is, but decide that’s a conversation for when you’re closer. “You don’t need to worry about that! I already like you.”
Enoch’s smile becomes even more shy and he glances away, letting his long hair fall over his face. “Thank you. I like you, too.”
“Let’s get cleaned up so we’ll come into a tidy office tomorrow. We’ll start refining our laid-out plan then.”
Enoch nods, tucking his hair behind his pointed ears. “I’ll be excited when we run the trials of the exhibit. Mr. Faire usually asks to be the first one to try it. Now that he has his daughter Echo, I’m sure he’ll want to try the ‘kid-friendly’ edition.”
The mausoleum museum has two separate events, kid-friendly shows between the hours of opening and eleven, and more adult-oriented shows starting at noon, which are much more frightening. During October, when Scarebrooke becomes the main attraction, all of the carnival takes this motif. Already, you and Enoch are discussing what to do for Halloween, and between working on layouts and talking with the artwork, you’ve been spitballing ideas with him.
Days go by quickly, and the work is light and fun. You and Enoch take turns bringing breakfast, but it feels like Enoch is always going above and beyond. There are days when you work on cleaning up the hallway, and he will have special gloves or cleaning supplies ready for you. You always have your favorite pens at the ready, and he somehow sneaks a comfier cushion onto your chair.
Back at your old job - or well, both jobs - you sort of had to fend for yourself. You’ve not really had a coworker who went out of their way to help you. Then again, the carnival employees treat each other like family, so you think that Enoch is just helping you to get acclimated to your new environment.
Life in Scarebrooke isn’t too different from Hearthway Hollow, and it’s probably why the two get along so well. Well, that and the fact that Mrs. Locklear sees Mr. Faire like her own family. You make friends rather quickly, starting with Carmine, who works in part of the mausoleum museum when the carnival is active. She mostly comes in during the evenings to do a check on the museum and feed a few of the exhibits. There’s also Padubast, a mummy whose act was once in the hall where the art gallery is now, and now he’s working in the library and as a teacher at the school. You spend most of your time outside work with one or both of them.
“Enoch has always been so shy. I’m surprised how he acts with you,” Carmine says one day over a game of cards.
“Is he? He’s always been quite open with me. I mean, he wears the mask and all.” You think for a long moment about how Enoch acts around you. You never would have guessed that being shy was part of his game. He always wears black and and stands at a respectful distance, but that seems normal to you.
“When he first arrived here he rarely spoke to anyone except Mr. Faire or Bram,” Padubast says. “He just worked on the art for the posters day and night. I’d never seen him until Muna gave him a makeover.”
“Muna did that?” Carmine gasps. “That explains his heels.”
“How did Enoch come here?” you ask quietly. “I mean, I know a lot of people come here out of need.”
“Enoch doesn’t really talk about himself. He mostly listens or talks about art,” Padubast says. “All I remember from when he first arrived is that he had to stay with Haymitch for a long time.”
Haymitch is the main doctor of the carnival, and that must mean Enoch was hurt when he first arrived. It makes you queasy, thinking about Enoch hurt and alone. You suddenly yearn to see him, just to make sure he’s alright.
You wait until the next day, when you have work anyway. As you step into the office, you find a bright bouquet of flowers on the desk. You dip down to sniff them, taking in the sweet aroma as Enoch’s heels click-clack down the hall.
“Enoch, these are beautiful! Where did you...” You stop when you turn around to see Enoch wearing something not-black for the first time - a tumeric-colored sweater with a floppy turtleneck and a pair of overalls. His long hair is down, covering part of his face as he stands unsurely in the doorway.
“You look really cute,” you marvel breathlessly.
“I wanted to try something different, but I don’t know.” He glances aside shyly, seeming to want to avoid looking directly at you.
“I’m so used to seeing you in black. It’s a shock.” You turn to face him fully. “I like it, though.”
His lips press into a firm line as he turns to look at you. “Thank you. The flowers were a whim.” He steps close to the desk and touches the petals of the flowers. “I thought you might enjoy the brightness of them.”
“You’re always bringing in things, thinking of me,” you giggle. Then something clicks in your mind. Everything he’s been doing has been like the courting ritual back home in Hearthway Hollow, just with fewer dead animals.
You look up shyly at Enoch, then back down at the flowers. His fingers are still resting in the petals. You take a moment to run everything through your head, just to make sure you aren’t looking at things strangely. But you can’t unsee it. You tuck your hair back, fiddling with it as you try to think of what to say next. “Carmine said you’re really shy.”
“I am,” Enoch murmurs.
“You’ve never acted that way around me.”
Enoch steps back and rubs his shoulder. “I know what to say around you. If I feel something is awkward, I can talk about artwork or coffee and I know you’ll understand me.”
“You don’t always have to talk around me,” you murmur. “I like even the silent moments with you. Like when I’m working on paperwork and you’re sketching posters. I like being around you.”
He pinches his fingertips one by one before he looks at you with a smile. “I like being around you too.”
“I know,” you say with a nod. Your hair falls back into your face, and Enoch reaches out to brush the locks aside. His fingertips slide against your cheek, and his palm cups it gently.
He recoils and laughs nervously. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You didn’t have to do the courtship ritual for me.”
He nods shakily. “I wanted to. Besides, it gave me a chance to build my courage up.” He looks back at you. “The part that comes next scares me.”
“And that is?”
“Where I show myself to you.” He lays his hands on his chest with his knuckles facing opposite each other, his long fingers curled into the palms. “The real me, the one without the glamour.”
“Oh,” you murmur. “It’s okay if you’re scared. Take your time.”
He blinks as he looks at you. “Do you even want to see?”
“You’re my friend - even more than that to me.” You flash him a reassuring smile. “I want to see all of you, and more.”
He ducks his chin into the folds of his sweater’s collar. “That’s very affirming.” He clears his throat.
“How about you come over for coffee tonight?” you ask softly. “I’ll make cookies, and maybe we can watch a movie.” The excitement bubbles up inside you. “We’ll talk, get comfortable, and we’ll let things happen as they happen.”
Enoch agreeds, and after work you rush home to clean and get ready. Your house isn’t an awful mess, but you’re having a possible romantic fling, so everything has to be just so. You get cookies into the oven and finish your shower before the timer goes off. You tie your wet hair up into a bun, not patient enough to let it drip-dry.
As soon as you put on the coffee, there is a knock at your door. You open it to see Enoch standing there, holding another bouquet of flowers and dressed in a dark grey sweater, jeans, and bright red heels. “Come in,” you say brightly.
He cautiously steps inside, his long hair falling in front of his eyes as he keeps his head lowered. “Here.” He offers you the flowers. “You liked the ones at the office, so I thought you’d enjoy some in your home.”
“Thank you.” You breathe in their sweet scent and smile up at him. “They’re beautiful.”
He smiles as he watches you. “I’m glad you like them.”
“Let me get these in the vase. The coffee is almost ready. Feel free to have a look around. Aside from the bathroom, this is it.”
“It’s very nice.” He steps further inside. On one wall you have your bed and armoire, while on the other is your living area with your bookshelves, sofa, and small TV. “It suits you to have something of an artist’s loft.” He walks over to the stained-glass window. “It must be beautiful to wake up to this each morning. The sun filtering through the colors, making them dance along your wall. I bet it looks like watercolors.”
You can’t find a vase, so you have to make do with an old fast-food cup with a cartoon character on it. “It does.”
“Lucky you,” he murmurs.
You pour him a cup of coffee and bring it over. “Back when I was little, my dad used to bring home those cheap watercolor sets from the store for my siblings and me. He’d also get these big sheets of paper from the newspaper, so we could all sit down and paint on the same huge sheet. In a way, those lights remind me of that.”
Enoch takes the mug and smiles at you. “I’m glad you had a happy childhood.”
“Hearthway Hollow was made for it.”
Enoch looks away sadly, gazing back towards the stained glass. “I wasn’t so lucky, so it makes me happy to hear people’s warm memories. Tell me more.”
You take hold of his hand. It’s still warm from the coffee cup, and you kiss the center of his palm before holding it against your face. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but I would like to hear more about you, Enoch.”
Enoch looks at you mournfully. He sets his cup aside and bends over to kiss you, pressing his lips to the tip of your nose and then forehead. “Your sincerity warms my heart.”
You tilt your chin up, meeting his lips for a soft kiss. He chuckles nervously, brushing his fingertips against your lips as he smiles. “I need to show you something first.”
You nod. “That’s fine.”
He sets the coffee cup aside and takes off the sweater. Then he sits down, removing his shoes as his feet begin to change. They’re bird-like and taloned, with dark grey skin. Black fur starts to grow over his body, with golden flecks mingled throughout. His neck stretches out much longer, and his arms expand into leathery wings. His face takes on the appearance of the mask he used to wear, while his long hair becomes a billowing mane around his head. He grows even taller, and his head hits the ceiling.
“Oh, wow,” you whisper in awe.
Enoch kneels before you so his head doesn’t bump the ceiling any more. “I’m a Kipine,” he says. “Not sure if you’ve heard of such a thing, but you can see me now and know.”
“You’re still lovely,” you say gently. “Tall, dark, and handsome.”
He chuckles nervously. “Please, don’t make me laugh right now. I am moments away from breaking into tears.”
You look up at him with concern, wanting to throw your arms around him and comfort him. “What? Why?”
He cups his hands around his face, covering his body with his wings. “I have not shown myself to anyone since I came here,” he whimpers. “I was made a spectacle before, and I don’t want to be seen that way again. I just wanted you to see me… to know me. You’re the only one who...”
You touch his arms, and he slowly lowers his hands. “It’s okay. I think you’re beautiful, Enoch. Whatever happened to you before, I would never treat you that way.”
Enoch pulls you into his arms, and his black fur feels warm and soft. You take him to your bed, and the two of you lie down together. He tells you he’d been kept in a cage as part of a traveling sideshow, one that Mr. Faire raided, rescuing most of the creatures there. He had been malnourished and sickly, so Haymitch and Mr. Faire took care of him and helped him to nurture his talents as he healed. You talk for hours about anything and everything, kissing and touching as you go, both of you falling deeper.
“Mr. Faire always promised me I would find a love of my own, but I never believed it until I met you.” He nuzzles into your hair. “It was love at first sight.”
Your heart is pounding rapidly. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh but I am,” he chuckles. “I like tall, strong women.” He nuzzles your neck, then gently nips your ear.
You giggle as his hand starts to run up your side. “Enoch, that tickles.”
“I want to see you too,” he whispers. “If you’ll let me.”
You smile bashfully, but acquiesce. You strip off your clothes and lie naked in the bed beside him. As he rises, so does the sun. The bright beams filter through the stained glass and the colors paint themselves on your skin. Enoch’s eyes grow wide as his hands move down your body to touch the colors.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.
You bite your lip and sit up, kissing him as you climb into his lap. His hands run down your back, and you can feel the heat grow between you. Something wet and hard touches your rear, and you ease back to rub against it.
Enoch ducks his head, burying his face in your neck and hair. “Is it too much?”
You take his shaft between your thighs. It’s pitch-black, save for the bright pink tip. It has large knots all the way down the shaft, and it is wet and slick to the touch. You stroke him while he moans against your shoulder. His hands squeeze around your waist.
“It’s okay,” you whisper to him. “I want to be your mate. I want to complete the courtship with you.”
Enoch whispers into your ear, something sweet and passionate in his own tongue. You take him inside slowly, growing used to his strange shape and size. You squeeze tight around him, feeling his heat pulse all throughout your body. His fingers knead into your thighs, helping to guide you as you rock upon him. His thumb gently rubs your clit, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.
“Look at me.” His soft words make your eyes flicker to his. His hips rise, moving him deep inside you. He lays you down upon the bed, gently rocking against you. You can feel each thrust as he grinds before pulling back.
The sunrise paints the stained glass over both of you. The colors melt together as you are, warm and powerful. His voice vibrates in your ear as he whispers to you over and over. The world stills for a moment, and you wonder how you got here. The warmth of the sun is soon drowned out by the sound of thunder and rain. Your skin cools, and you start to feel your legs again, but Enoch’s warmth is ever there.
He rubs your back slowly as you cuddle his chest. Your legs are tangled and your bodies are limp, but it doesn’t matter. Right now, everything feels comfortable and right. Enoch peppers you with soft kisses. His long hair falls around you like a sheet, and you smile up into his face.
“I took my glamour back so I could fit on the bed,” he says shyly. “I hope that’s OK.”
You kiss him, pulling him back down on top of you. “I’ll accept any form you choose to take,” you purr. “You’re beautiful no matter what.”
“So are you,” he sighs. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I’ve never felt so close to someone before.”
You kiss him again and run your hands down his skin. “It was nice, wasn’t it?”
You sit up, and he nuzzles your breast for a moment. “Where are you going?” he chuckles. “Don’t get up.”
“I’m going to make us coffee,” you grin. “It’s morning, after all.”
Enoch kisses you. “I love you. And not just because of the coffee.”
You beam happily. “I love you, too.”
Comments
alittlewrenn
Adorable!
