Mortimer's Notes

I approach him. His knees... he's sitting on the floor. This white space... it's like his child—just as white and pure. Who would have thought that someone like him would get caught up in the "political" games of that fox. A step toward him. Closer. His gaze. It was always monotonous, just like his smile, but you could always tell what he was thinking from it. Only... what had changed in them to make me see his head? He despises me. He despises me right now. Hates me. How proudly... Usually, his gaze is hazy, but this time, I don't see him in it. I slowly walk around him, drawing out each step to look at him from above. Ironic. I'm not the one with the wings. The view from the back was more interesting: two large holes, pierced straight through his back. Where his wings should have been, there's nothing: no wings, no shoulder blades. And what the hell are shoulder blades?! Inside him, there are not even organs, just a black emptiness that smells of a forgotten, dusty room. I squat down and extend my veiny palm to him, to the gates that lead to his intimate spots. It's like entering water: first touching it with a finger, then going in up to your knees, and then fully jumping in. It's the same for me. My fingers slowly approach one of the holes and, as easily as if entering a woman, go into them. It's so cold inside, as if he's truly built of bricks. But the most interesting thing is how he starts to tremble from my penetration, as if he's been hit by an electric shock. How pleasant it is to watch this. He's trembling from my palm. But I don't want to spoil this boundary, so I immediately pull my palm away and look at him, at the back of his head. A movement forward. Dry and cold lips settle on his neck. I'd call it foreplay, which I hate, but I want to stretch this pleasure out a little longer. He's sitting. Not saying or moving anything. If we had drugs, he'd be on them right now, but these are a little different... charms. And this fact irritates me. I abruptly sink my three-rowed teeth into your neck. To my surprise, you wanted to let out a moan or a scream, but I don't know exactly what, because I've already covered your lyrical mouth with my hand. The fangs are so firmly and deeply lodged in you... no, it's more than just a grip... they've entered you. I've entered you. A second time. I want everyone to know, for everyone to see, that it was I who deprived Tornado of his wings. And it is I who will leave my mark on him. I didn't want to let you go, but I don't have much time. I tried to carefully pull my fangs out of you so as not to spoil this strange bite mark, and then I licked it. They say that if a dog licks a wound, it will heal quickly, but that's dog nonsense. "Forgive me. Forgive me for depriving you of that beauty that brought me pleasure." These last thoughts echoed in Kassian's head, accompanied by Skylor's kiss on his cheek. "I don't need you anymore."