[It's when he starts to draw out more of her blood that she feels that spike of panic, and she tries to wriggle herself free... for real this time.
Only she's pulled back and trapped, his hand thrusting between her thighs again. She tries to blink through the heat that clouds her eyes when his fingers fill her again, tries not to think about the way all of her blood rushes there to greet him, and instead tries to focus on him. A glance over her shoulder and she can see the way that his eyes have darkened, though not with the same loving desire that he has, even in their most desperate and passionate throes.
It's something different. Something very not him.
Something is wrong... She doesn't know what, but something has gone very, very wrong in this dream. Like it's broken, or like he's broken. Almost like the nightmares have crept back in...
She would beg for him to stop, but would that only provoke him further? If that really is him, would it only make him feel worse? She knows Eustace—she knows this isn't something he would do of his own free will, he would never hurt her, so why...?
There's a fear that lights up in her eyes, chasing away the shadows of her own deeper desires as he plunges his fingers deeper into her.]
Eustace—
[The shackles that bind her suddenly fall away, clattering to the mattress, and the smell of fire and burning vines fill the room as her flames light them up to free her, and she tries to wake them both up from the dream, or at least herself so that she could escape and pull him free after, but...]
Shit...
[It's the pleasure in between the waves of pain that stop her and break her concentration and keep her locked in place before...]
I'm sorry.
[Her legs hook around him suddenly and she flips him over onto his back, reaching around and twisting his arm so that he has no choice but to free her. And she'll try to make a break for it, clambering off the bed, weakened knees be damned. She searches for her dress, but instead grabs his cloak off the floor and tries to run—]
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Only she's pulled back and trapped, his hand thrusting between her thighs again. She tries to blink through the heat that clouds her eyes when his fingers fill her again, tries not to think about the way all of her blood rushes there to greet him, and instead tries to focus on him. A glance over her shoulder and she can see the way that his eyes have darkened, though not with the same loving desire that he has, even in their most desperate and passionate throes.
It's something different. Something very not him.
Something is wrong... She doesn't know what, but something has gone very, very wrong in this dream. Like it's broken, or like he's broken. Almost like the nightmares have crept back in...
She would beg for him to stop, but would that only provoke him further? If that really is him, would it only make him feel worse? She knows Eustace—she knows this isn't something he would do of his own free will, he would never hurt her, so why...?
There's a fear that lights up in her eyes, chasing away the shadows of her own deeper desires as he plunges his fingers deeper into her.]
Eustace—
[The shackles that bind her suddenly fall away, clattering to the mattress, and the smell of fire and burning vines fill the room as her flames light them up to free her, and she tries to wake them both up from the dream, or at least herself so that she could escape and pull him free after, but...]
Shit...
[It's the pleasure in between the waves of pain that stop her and break her concentration and keep her locked in place before...]
I'm sorry.
[Her legs hook around him suddenly and she flips him over onto his back, reaching around and twisting his arm so that he has no choice but to free her. And she'll try to make a break for it, clambering off the bed, weakened knees be damned. She searches for her dress, but instead grabs his cloak off the floor and tries to run—]