I'm glad people have been chill. And ... I appreciate your honesty.
But you aren't the first demon I've met, so in terms of inclination ...
[ His smile softens in the face of Sebastian's rather gallant gesture. It's almost courtly--or maybe literary. Even if Matt were the kind of person who could turn down the prospect of knowledge, he'd never say no to such an appealing offer. He shifts on the earthen floor, stretching to close the gap between them. His fingers curl around Sebastian's.
And in the instant their hands touch, there's--
Matt's heartbeat, first. The glass-blown vestibules of his lungs, blood shuddering down its hundreds of corridors. Each sensation is as vibrant and tangible as if it lay under Sebastian's own skin. It's why Matt conceives of this ability as a channel: it flows, without beginning and without end. Their bodies are themselves, distinct and particular, but also one.
On the heels of this sense of embodiment comes information. The bright-hot ecstasy of teeth sinking into Matt's thigh, which is Sebastian's thigh--a hungry mouth drinking life from him, filling him with warmth and purpose. And forever, inevitably, waiting just beyond the edges of Matt's perception, a shadowed fingertip drags an eternal claw across his cheek. These things feel as though they're happening--they're as immediate as reality, searing over skin and nerves in just the way Matt experienced them. ]
no subject
I'm glad people have been chill. And ... I appreciate your honesty.
But you aren't the first demon I've met, so in terms of inclination ...
[ His smile softens in the face of Sebastian's rather gallant gesture. It's almost courtly--or maybe literary. Even if Matt were the kind of person who could turn down the prospect of knowledge, he'd never say no to such an appealing offer. He shifts on the earthen floor, stretching to close the gap between them. His fingers curl around Sebastian's.
And in the instant their hands touch, there's--
Matt's heartbeat, first. The glass-blown vestibules of his lungs, blood shuddering down its hundreds of corridors. Each sensation is as vibrant and tangible as if it lay under Sebastian's own skin. It's why Matt conceives of this ability as a channel: it flows, without beginning and without end. Their bodies are themselves, distinct and particular, but also one.
On the heels of this sense of embodiment comes information. The bright-hot ecstasy of teeth sinking into Matt's thigh, which is Sebastian's thigh--a hungry mouth drinking life from him, filling him with warmth and purpose. And forever, inevitably, waiting just beyond the edges of Matt's perception, a shadowed fingertip drags an eternal claw across his cheek. These things feel as though they're happening--they're as immediate as reality, searing over skin and nerves in just the way Matt experienced them. ]