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“It’s getting harder to breathe.”
His fingers are with yours, his moist lips at your throat, and you are sucked down in the fathomless, the bottomless, the deep blue, the sempiternal.
“And if I were the ocean…”
Your sighs are across sand.
“Oh, how I’d be lost in you.”
Your fingers skim the bleached coral of his abdomen; you kiss bright, pink jelly-fish stings across his chest.
“My treasure.”
Just before your mouths meet like ravenous tides, he smiles at you, and his eyes glint like the grey mists of a tempest; exhilarated, dissipated.
“Sometimes I think you just want to destroy me.”
Your legs hook around his waist, like the curvature of metal upon a shark’s jowl, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, as wispy as foam. Your breath is sea-breeze at his ear.
“Will you disappear from me? You’ll hurt me, Nagito.”
He presses deep, deep, deeper inside of you, carnal, cavernous.
“But if you don’t leave…”
You gasp and scramble; he grazes his teeth at your shoulder, oyster sharp, then kisses the pain away, succulent.
“Then I should.”
You laugh soundly then, high and tingly like the cachinnations of marine life, and you cosset him so dearly you put anemones to shame.
“But you won’t.”
He pauses, like the sea serpent before his strike, then moves gently with you, as if with the succinct oscillations of wind, moments before deluge.
“For I am your shipwreck…”
You find your lighthouse, but you are drowned at sea.
“And we are sunk together.”