Hushed Willows black in the magic, beauty in the tragic

he didn't miss the tightening of her expression, and he ducked his head, slightly abashed. "stockholm," he repeated, his tongue percussive on each syllable. chutiya, he thought savagely, and hoped it didn't show on his face. guilt prickled at him; the man didn't deserve his ire, had done nothing to him save have what he wanted. yet it was so delicious to bathe in the heat of jealousy, to give way into greed.

"i know," adi whispered, closing his eyes again at her caresses. stop. touching. me. he would surely die. he couldn't give in, embrace her as he had on the isle, for he feared if he did so now, he'd never stop loving her. they'd have to kill him, rip his body from hers.

there was fire in his blood, blazing up as she said his name, and a groan bubbled at the base of his throat, escaping his lips as a sigh. shaking his head, he slipped away from her, keeping a tail's length between them. he watched her, golden eyes luminous in the muted light of the willows. gaze raking over every inch of her, memorizing the details, as though she'd vanish the next instant.

"tumko paya hai to jaisa khoya hoon," he sang softly, under his breath, intending--or not?--for her to catch the barest murmur of it. "kehna chahoon bhi to tumse kya kahoon." like on the isle, he knew she wouldn't know the words, didn't know the tongue--but she knew his heart; would she take the meaning? he half-hoped she did.

"tumko paya hai to jaisa khoya hoon," adi repeated, feeling like his heart was lodged in his throat. then, ears canted forward, he said, voice choked, barely audible, "come. i will take you to morningside."