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[Sylvan Sherwood]

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On Earth, there was an old saying that confession was good for the soul.

After the conversation in which Sylvan admitted to Arahim that she tried to sneak into his mind--but conveniently leaving out her reasons--she watched helplessly as he shoved his feet into his boots and announced he had things to do and left without so much as another word or a kiss, Sylvan had serious doubts about the confession thing.

The house resonated with a deafening silence. Christopher lay sleeping, sprawled in the middle of his parent's bed. Jasmine made herself scarce and busy in the kitchen.

How angry he was with her, an emotion he had to yet bestow upon her in all their time together until now. Sylvan felt utterly lost and confused, knowing she couldn't possibly make him understand at this point her motives or justifications for her actions. She knew in her heart she did what she did for her love of him, an overwhelming need to settle a score with the people who so terribly harmed him as a child. People who did such awful things to his mind and psyche, that Arahim managed to bury the memories deeply into his subconscious only to live with the results.

Knowing she could not possibly attempt again what she'd so miserably failed at, upon Christopher's intervention, she stayed right where she'd been sitting when he stormed out of the winter house. Her mind played everything over and over again until she felt she would scream in frustration.

Eventually, she realized she would have to come up with an alternative plan to settle this score.

[Arahim]

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*Discretionary Preamble*
Let me apologize for being ooc for a second in a space reserved for IC posts, but what follows, while not explicit by my standards, is a somewhat frank depiction of sex. I realize everyone has a different mindset as to what is offensive or off-putting, and so I felt it only right to give fair warning.

The rp between Sylvan and Arahim has always been a character study. It boils down to two people who are inherently good, but damaged in many different ways. The fun has always been how we rped them in situations that are completely new to them, and this post is a reaction to a strange, and potentially disastrous set of circumstances involving trust. The post,I felt, captured the mood of whats going on with them at the now, and is not intended as an "attention getter." I thought to share it cos while I may not have the fanbase of pancakes, I did the math and found I have 3 to 4 fans. So this is for them.

Again, if I offend, it was not my intention. Scroll down....



































"Do you want my company?"

There was a frantic urgency to their lovemaking that had never been there in the times prior. Gone was the playful, teasing banter. As was the start and stop competition that had always pushed them on, and brought the utmost best from each of them, until they had both collapsed in a breathless tangle of laughter.

In it's place, filling the hollows, was a manifest, physical desire to fix what Sylvan could not bring herself to verbalize.

What neither of them had the language for.

Here was their love pared down to it's barest, most primal form. That base need for climax. Faceless, formless, desperate sex.

She needed him to want her still. If nothing else.

Her knees locked tightly around his waist, legs hooked around his. Her every muscle taut against him.

Her positioning affording Arahim a very restricted range of motion. Still, she tightened herself around him, fingernails scrabbling for purchase over the contours of his back in an overpowering need to keep him close. Not allowing him to raise himself above her onto his knees or elbows. Redoubling her efforts, and pushing strongly against him if he slipped out too far for her liking.

Wordless she encouraged him, breathing the same ragged, uneven air he sighed so close into her face.

A fervent burst of kisses drew blood, and became lost and meaningless as to who it belonged to.

Though a minutae of herself languished and died right there, Sylvan had never felt so full, nor had she felt her one true love so vital and alive. She could not keep him out of her head as her breath caught in her throat and shuddered out in slow, prolonged gasp.

Long minutes passed in drawn out silence before she let Arahim go. The stars she saw in his thoughts still blinding her as she traced her fingers along the scars that ran along his left arm, from wrist to shoulder.

He watched her quietly, though she would not look into his eyes.

There were no words.