[Alex is definitely entranced by all of him. It's there in the way that he smells, the way that he's touching her, the way that his voice sounds. To Alex Reagan the first draw of Richard Strand had always been his voice. Voices were sort of her thing and he had the best one that he'd ever heard. To hear it go husky and deeper in that way makes the bottom of her world drop out, along with her will.
Funny how that happens, considering how strong her will normally is. But she doesn't want to resist this, not when it feels just so damned right to her. Everything about this seems as it should be, as it always should have been: the two of them together, her and him. Weren't they already bound together and tied with strings and all of that? Weren't the two of them connected? Hadn't he been the one who had expressed that first?
'You're my Persephone. You always have been.'
That was true in a way wasn't it? Each black tape had been a pip of pomegranate, keeping her inside of his world. Recreating it in some way. It was the best metaphor for what was between them that there ever was.
He pulled back, and she could hear the panic in his voice about there being something going on but Alex just stepped forward once more, and she touched his cheek before she whispered softly that warm and tender tone in her voice once again. It was an invitation, laying herself bare.]
I've always been your Persephone, Richard. And you've always been my Hades.
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Funny how that happens, considering how strong her will normally is. But she doesn't want to resist this, not when it feels just so damned right to her. Everything about this seems as it should be, as it always should have been: the two of them together, her and him. Weren't they already bound together and tied with strings and all of that? Weren't the two of them connected? Hadn't he been the one who had expressed that first?
'You're my Persephone. You always have been.'
That was true in a way wasn't it? Each black tape had been a pip of pomegranate, keeping her inside of his world. Recreating it in some way. It was the best metaphor for what was between them that there ever was.
He pulled back, and she could hear the panic in his voice about there being something going on but Alex just stepped forward once more, and she touched his cheek before she whispered softly that warm and tender tone in her voice once again. It was an invitation, laying herself bare.]
I've always been your Persephone, Richard. And you've always been my Hades.