Enkindled

Yes indeed, oh so the flames would lick their wounds and burn anew, cold light and deep whisper smouldering under a bed of embers.

The deep fire underneath the surface of the brasiers, the embers flying across the sea, the end in sight.

A whole world lit on fire, tornadoes and devastated sights, the beauty in devastation. Heat. Sweat. Desire. Burning to ashes.

The black-skinned woman looks Charlotte right through the eyes, she pierces her gaze ; for the light she breathes is pure, devoid of anything that could blur its shine.

Nothing makes sense anymore. She is a void of sensations. Nothing comes through anymore. She is devoid of emotions, only carried away like a leaf in the wind by the pure ambiance of the room, nothing more than her nerves, the feelings that arise whenever she’s breathing, letting that pure, unfiltered light, those unending particles of bright sunsets enter her.

She wakes up. Once again she's drifted back to some kind of shallowly deep slumber. It shakes her to her very core. The vibe has shifted. Seolf is outside, hanging some clothes to dry on a clothesline above the street. They’re on the third floor of an old building that — judging by the dark soot that covers the walls — endured quite a bit of fire recently.

Charlotte dares to look outside through the window, and she immediately fixes her gaze to Seolf’s back visible through the opening in her backless overalls. A flaming bird of prey, all in whites and reds and golds, spreading its wings like it’s alive tattooed deep into her skin, scars still visible from the recent touch ups. The tail of the phoenix creeps down towards her buttocks, round but firm ; only barely visible, their nascency to be admired.

She wakes up.

Once again, Seolf is by her side.

The intricacy of these dreams scare Charlotte to ****. She starts to violently blink, rocking back and forth as if going through withdrawal.

The fire.

It’s the fire, always the fire. It fucking broke her. And yet, she’s still there, like some kind of doll repaired with kintsugi, she feels.. Assembled? More like a child’s toy. To be completed, but not complete in and of itself. Alone, cold despite being bathed in fire, helpless. Scared. Fucking terrified.

She wakes up. She sees breasts dangling above her.. belonging to no one? Scared. Aroused? Scared. None of it matters if she can’t wake up anymore. Who’s there? No one. She replies to herself. She mutters strange words, she chants small complaints to the wind.. And she shivers despite being hotter than a frying pan. Seolf’s breasts. Yeah. No one else. Did she also dream the ebony girl with a phoenix tattoo into existence?

She wakes up. Completely naked and drenched in sweat. She ran through a sauna of some sort? She is walking barefoot across a slag lake. Her feet sink two centimeters into the half molten, half cooled rocks, and she starts to run, not controlling her own body. She can feel the air flow around her, the wind she steps with when she jumps ; leaving feet-sized pools of exposed lava behind her. She misses her next step and crashes head first into the magma.

She wakes up. This time she feels something before seeing. The pain. The unbearable pain. Her savior’s there, by her side, holding her arms with her own ; pushing down on Charlotte’s body with everything she’s got. She feels a jolt in her members and starts her whole body tenses before she relaxes. Seolf’s brow is glistening with sweat… Whatever she was doing before Charlotte woke up was quite the effort. The two women acknowledge each other and lock eyes before Seolf suddenly smiles. She closes her eyes, a tinge of pain visible at the twitch between her eyebrows… And she has a small gap between her teeth. She’s cute.

She’s cute.

She drifts back asleep.