Priscilla

S3 ⭒ Episode Four

"Say yes to heaven.
Say yes to me..."
♪ Say yes to Heaven • Lana Del Rey.

SURRENDER

I hate Halen. I hate his beautiful face, and his delicious smell, and how good he looks in a cashmere coat. I want to crawl my way out of here and leave him in this cage like elevator to rot like a bird.

The look in his eyes shouldn't effect me the way that it does, it shouldn't cause an ache in me. But, I love the way his deep green irises pool with black when he corners me farther, beyond movement, in the elevator. They're a misty haze of need, and they too, pin me down and overwhelm me to the point of anxious swirls in my belly.

He, and only he, has ever made me feel such a way.

One look. One... word. I'm weakened.

It scares me, but - I love that too.

I do hope to God that doesn't mean anything.

"Pearl, did you hear me?" Daisy Mae echoes from above again, "I asked who's in there with you?"

I call, not breaking my eye contact with him, "Halen's with me! But, we're not hurt, we're perfectly alright!"

I swallow, "We're..." I lose my words when he brushes his knuckles across my forehead, tracing my face like he did before, in the shape of a heart; dragging his fingers all the way down to my chin. They're calloused and rigid, but how cold they are aids in the way they glide effortless over me. He spreads his fingertips across my cheek and smooths his hand out flat, sliding his palms back to the base of my jaw, cradling me.

I exhale a soft breath, suddenly feeling so drowsy. So relaxed. So dizzy. My thoughts are chilly and foggy... and his breath, only inches away, is so warm. My eyes fall closed and my chest tingles with so much warmth, I feel breathless.

"Priscilla." His whispered voice seeps into my ears like fresh water into thirsty, dry soil; soaking my senses and nerves, and they break down and melt like ice on your tongue. Like candy in the summer sun. His nose brushes against mine and he teases his breath along my lips, dancing his plump, silky mouth around my cupids bow, "I beg of you, please..." He tilts his head and his eyes droop with yearning.

Chucky's empty leash, balled up in my fist, slips to the ground, and I grip his forearm, sliding my hand up to his wrist to hold him there, near. To bask in the feeling. I can't help but adore the way it feels and in this moment, I cannot deny myself. I can't ignore him, no matter how much he vexes me. I can't ignore how warm my inner thighs get when he whispers my name again. I can't ignore how my belly gets gooey like sticky honey when he feathers his lips up to the space between my brows and tempts to kiss me there.

His lips mold along my skin and he drags them lazily up my forehead with a shallow breath. And when he kisses it, he threads his fingers up through my hair, massaging my scalp and tilting my head back from his magnetic mouth while pushing it harder against me at the same time. Denying me, and wanting me.