what we love, we mention.

tainted his tongue scarlet with your name. the things you do. what you have. eyes stares. tongues wags. flattery for a platter of gold. insults for a platter of tongues. as they say, people don't want to hear the truth, for they don't want their illusions destroyed.

every child has a cage around their head. a mother on the cross. he always hoped to take it off. instead, he climbed up, like a child to bed and nailed himself beside you. cupped your face. thumbs parenthesed around your mouth. and it's all for nothing.

always nothing. it's a loveless marriage, after all. but he try than change. he hid. he lied. he brutalized his shattered blackened heart that curled the lines around his mouth ever so tightly and rigidly.

his nostrils flared. a deep inhale. a growl. geta shook his head and charged after you, grabbing you by the arm, spinning you around to face him. "and you are mine!" the words rang, like a kraken's roar. deep and guttural. and he could have sworn he stepped out of the line of fire. just as you had done. "you're mine, as i am yours. i own you, you own me. it has been like that— and i had bared it all and laid it on your feet!"

his expression faltered, softening bitterly. fingers curling on the silk you wore, creasing lines on your skin underneath, his nails denting moons on your constellation before it was abandoned just so he could hold your face and burn himself beneath your gaze. "you can lie. you can sin. drag me. stab me in the back. neglect me. shout at me. abhor me. bed that gladiator. kill me. but never..."

gripping you tight, his forehead rest against yours. his body heavy as lead. his brows knit tight against the other as he breathes, like a dying pup. "don't leave me."