Apollo. His name alone, simulated after the god who carved multitude numbers of eldritch music and who possessed such unimaginable beauty, induced many wars among our brethren. He is devastatingly handsome- molded by Apollo himself. With piercing eyes green as the emerald lushness masking the immensity of the forest...
"Zane," he spoke quietly. I looked at him questioningly, noticing that he was watching me intensely. I almost got lost in those golden eyes when I realized what he said. "Your name," I said lamely, "mines Azaila." He smiled at me.
"Submit." The word sounds harsh and passionate. The man acts so bipolar, and it was attractive. "No," I answer, turning my head away from him. Unfortunatley, he uses it as an advantage and brings his lips to my neck, planting small kisses everywhere and leaving a trail burning like fire. I squirm against the wall, bit...