Chapter 1: A dream
In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed—
But a waking dream of life and light
Hath left me broken-hearted.
Poem: "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Edme Nashton was six years old when she discovered riddles. She was a smart girl, well behaved, always quiet. But her smile was too bright, or her gaze too intense, or perhaps she was simply too smart. Because, no matter what she tried, no one ever wanted to be her friend. She was six when she first read the definition of loneliness. She was six when she understood that it was the ache in her chest. She was lonely, she wanted more in her life. But, if she couldn't speak a word of it. Not without scolding from her mother. With words that tore into her more than the punches or kicks dealt by her father. So, she kept quiet. She quickly read through the family library. Her hungry mind absorbing information as if it would give her the attention she craved. If she had to be lonely she was going to be lonely and educated. Then at least her mind could keep her company. Puzzles, riddles and questions were her only distraction from that ache. If she kept her mind occupied she wouldn’t feel so alone.
I can fill a room or just one heart. Others can have me but I cannot be shared. What am I?
Tom Dougherty was bigger than her, with a broader frame and stronger arms. At first she had thought she had finally made a friend. He politely asked if she was the one who liked riddles. She was ten years old, no one had ever asked about her interests before. So, she smiled and nodded, not trusting herself with words. His riddles were elementary, she could answer every one in seconds if she wished. But, if she pretended to think longer, pondering over the answer she knew for a minute or two he would be there longer. The gaze of his eyes would stay longer, she'd feel human longer. Human with a friend. The laugh he gave when she finally answered would be sweeter if she guessed first. Every day he’d clap her shoulder and promise to stump her the next time. He never did, but she'd never tell him that. She was thirteen when he kissed her. He had been rough, his nails digging into her wrists and his lips smashing against hers.
“Stop it! Let go!” she didn’t want this. The face that had shown her kindness now sneered. Twisting from a friendly beacon of hope into a filthy monster like the rest of her school mates. Only it was worse because it was him, the only person she thought she could trust.
“Come on, Eddie, it’s not like anyone else would ever want to kiss you. I’m doing you a favour.” The words burned worse than acid, the cruelty in his breath was like smoke that stung her eyes and throat. She couldn’t find words. So she shoved and kicked free, running away from the twisted thing she thought had been her friend.
I can sneak up on you or be right in front of you without you knowing. But when I reveal myself, you will never be the same. What am I?
Edme was fourteen, once again alone in the world. The world where people spoke with smoking lips and filthy tongues, all the while ogling with cruel eyes. She was lonely, more than she had ever been before. After having a taste of companionship, the ache of her isolation only increased. Sometimes she regretted pushing him away. That perhaps Tom was right, that she should have let him has his way with her, that no one would ever want to kiss her, or to be with her. That no one would ever love her. So, she was fourteen and drawing a pentagram on the floor of her bed chamber. In the weeks previous she read through at least seven volumes on demonology and the summoning of demons, taking the commonalities and devising a method that should prove to be most exact. She didn't care if she had to sign her soul away, anything would be better than the suffocating pressure of her isolation. So she bit the knife into her palm and let the red cascade down into a china bowl. She carefully stemmed the blood flow with a roll of gauze and stepped out of the ring of candles. With the gauze secured and standing a safe distance away, she picked up her book and started the chant. The Latin syllables otherworldly as they left her tongue, a breeze swirled to life around her. It tugged at the hem of her skirt and whisked the flames right off the candles. The smoke curled. Edme turned to her window, locked shut. As was her door.
“Turn around, little maid,” the voice spoke from behind her. Edme turned back to the pentagram. Inside it stood a woman with her dark hair, cut just at her chin in a soft wavy bob. She had a hooked and pointed nose. Her skin was a pale with hints of purple, like a bruised corpse. She was wearing a deep purple dress, she had huge cattle-like horns growing from the sides of her head, they were a dark umber with purple silken cords draped over them. But it wasn’t any of those that had caught Edme’s attention, it wasn’t the pointed claw-like nature of her manicure either. It was her eyes. They were piercing, like and icy ocean, not quite blue and not quite green.
“It worked?” the whispered thought slipped out of her mouth.
“Yes, little maid, unless you were trying to get an angel, it worked.” Edme bit her lip as the woman chuckled at her. “Is this your blood?” the woman asked as she stooped down to pick up the China bowl.
“I like you already. Most idiotic children try to substitute animal blood, as if any self-respecting demon would want to drink that!” the woman let out a guffaw before tipping the bowl to her lips and drinking. Not a drop spilled. It was almost hypnotic, watching the woman swallow down her blood. Like watching a beauteous queen drink wine. The woman held herself like a queen, chin raised, straight back, perfect posture. “Now, little maid, what is it you wanted, riches, power-?”
“No! I- just want someone to talk to,” her eyes were cast downward, a little embarrassed that she’d needed to resort to summoning a demon to get a friend. Fingers cradled her chin and gently pulled it up.
“Little maid, being lonely is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“What will I owe you?” Edme asked cautiously, knowing that the exchange couldn't possibly come from the kindness of the woman's heart. She knew from experience that humans were incapable of such feats, so a demon would definitely want something in return.
“Well, if I lend you my ear, I expect you to lend yours as well.”
“What would I want an ear for!? What would you?” A hand shot up, clenching over her own ear to guard it from being taken.
“Not your literal ear, little maid, what I mean is that I expect you to listen to my troubles as I listen to yours.”
“That-. . .makes more sense.” The girl admitted softly. The woman chuckled, her hand leaving the girl's chin. She turned sauntering to the bed before perching atop it and patting a spot beside her.
“Now, little maid, what is it you want to talk about?” Edme followed the steps of the woman, sitting beside her before taking a deep breath. Then, she spoke. She spoke of little tidbits she found in the numerous books she read, how people ignored and disliked her, about Tom. After a few hours her voice was gone and her eyes were red and swollen from crying and she quietly listened to the woman--Osvalda’s stories. She felt good. She felt heard, she felt human. Valued. Trusted.
In the early hours before the sun had peeked above the horizon the woman stood. She brushed off her dress and pulled a small card out of some hidden pocket. It had her name and a short verse.
“This is for you, little maid, if you ever wish to speak again, just recite these words and be there.”
“Thank you.” the woman smiled, then she was gone.
I cost nothing but am worth everything, weigh nothing, I can last a lifetime, I cannot be owned by one person, but two or more can share me. What am I?
As the years past Edme kept calling, and Osvalda kept coming. They would talk hours into the night. Sometimes they wouldn't speak, just hold each other. Edme couldn't tell which she liked better, hearing her dear friend ramble about whatever she cared for, or the way Oz would hold her. With arms around her, fingers gently combing through her hair as she hummed a lullaby. Being with Osvalda was blissful, the cruel world seemed to melt away. She wasn't lonely anymore, she felt . . . loved. And just that thought made her giddy enough to giggle. Her life was amazing in those late hours. Until the sun came up and she was in the cruel world of humans again. She was twenty-four when her parents told her that she was betrothed, and that she was to meet her betrothed for tea.
“Hello Eddie,” No. Not him. Why him?
“You?” Tom Daugherty was sitting on the chaise, with a small cup of tea balanced in his hands. He smiled, like a cat would smile at a little mouse. She couldn't help but tense up, feeling as if he would pounce at any minute and tear her apart. She knew he could. In the years since she'd last seen him --in close range-- he'd filled out. His body was more solid, he'd lost the softness that gave him his boyish charm. He was a man now, one that was made of stone or some harder, crueler material.
“You've grown to be a beautiful woman,” Tom said with his cat-like predatory smile. The words themselves seemed kind but they felt wrong, they felt dirty. They made Edme feel dirty. Being around him made her feel dirty and cheap, the way he treated her made her feel like a used handkerchief. He may have been polite but there was a smug, dangerous edge to everything he said and did. She couldn't believe that she'd ever felt safe around him. Not when now just being in his presence made her stomach twist and turn and make her feel as if she was teetering over the edge of a precipice. Every instinct was screeching at her to run far far away from the monster. “I said , you've grown into a beautiful woman.” She could almost see the flight smoke curl past his lips with each forceful word.
“Thank you,” tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, she was shaking. This wasn't right. This wasn't what it was supposed to be.
“That's better,” he smiled, and she could see his teeth multiplying and sharpening like the sharks she'd read about. A smile that wanted blood. She felt sick. “How have you been?”
“Good.” She had to swallow the lump down in her throat before continuing, “And you?” his shark-toothed smile was back.
“I am just so excited to make an honest woman of you, after all, no one else would ever want you.” the tea cup was shaking in her hands, tears had started to fall. How could he hurt her so much in a few short phrases? Why was she letting him hurt her? She should be stronger than this, stronger than to let an ignoramus like Tom hurt her. But he still did.
“That won't be for awhile, surely?”
“Only a week, dearest ” the teacup shattered as it hit the floor. The hot liquid splashed and spilled across the floor. She couldn't breath. A week? A week?
“I can see that you're as eager as I.” Tom was closer, he had gotten up, and had a hand firmly under her chin. He seemed to be wholly enjoying her suffering and panic. She shuddered when he kissed her. The most impossibly cruel part of it all was how soft it was. If one hadn't have known him they would have called it sweet. But she knew him. He was cruel, vile, like the rest of the world, but the cruelest thing about him was that he made her think that he cared once.
Ok, so the title is a line from EAP's "The Raven" and I think I'm gonna name every chapter after a different poem of his that I feel fits it. Also thank @APuzzlingPrince for reminding me I love demons, I've been working on this awhile and if you haven't you should check out their story "Rotten Hearts"
Chapter 2: For Annie
When the light was extinguished,
She covered me warm,
And she prayed to the angels
To keep me from harm—
To the queen of the angels
To shield me from harm.
But my heart it is brighter
Than all of the many
Stars in the sky,
For it sparkles with Annie—
It glows with the light
Of the love of my Annie—
With the thought of the light
Of the eyes of my Annie.
Poem: "For Annie" by Edgar Allen Poe
The chapters shall be named after poems by Edgar Allen Poe (or some other Gothic poet) and stanzas from these poems shall be the summaries. The poems are chosen based on what I think works for the chapter in terms of events, tone, etc.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
It was the eve of her wedding when reality sunk in. It wasn’t a practical joke or farce, the next day she would be expected to walk down the aisle and swear her life away to that cruel thing . She was expected to spend the rest of her life being his. How could she, when just the sight of him made her nauseous? She would rather die than share a home, much less a bed, with him. She knew without a doubt that if she were to live with Tom, she would surely die, his presence asphyxiating, his words lashing, and his hands bruising.
“Father, Mother, please, I cannot marry him!” Her voice was shrill, on the verge of breaking. She knew that she shouldn’t be in hysterics, she was often punished for being too emotional, or too loud. Her parents had scant been caring towards her so far but perhaps she could appeal to at least the tiniest bit of pity?
“You ingrate! Who has kept a roof above your little swine-head!?” Edme flinched. “Who has fed and clothed you, who has put up with you!?” Father's voice had a quality that made is ring like a church bell, long after he had spoken, the words would ring, ring, ring in her head.
“...You have,” her eyes are downcast, her voice going meek. Her voice always went meek when father shouted.
“That is right, now the least you could do to repay your debt is to marry Sergeant Dougherty!” her mother's voice was stern and harsh, like the stamp of a judge's hammer damning the accused.
“Why not someone else, please, anyone but him!” Father slapped her. She was quiet.
“You will marry Sergeant Dougherty, and that is final! You should be grateful anyone would even wish to marry a ill-behaving woman such as yourself!” she ran to her room, each breath caught between sobs. She felt against the door as she closed it, sobs wracking through her body.
“Osvalda, I summon thee from black skies and fiery seas!”
“Ed-” Edme flung herself at the now shorter woman, throwing her arms around her shoulders, and burying her face in the place between her neck and shoulder.
“They want me to marry Tom! Please, I cannot! I cannot marry him! Please, help me!” she sobbed. Osvalda was not used to being pounced quite so soon as to arriving, much less by someone who wasn't aiming to attack. Edme was clinging to her, shaking like a leaf in the wind as she sobbed and babbled incoherently. In the years that she'd known the human she'd never seen her so distraught. So she lifted her hands, holding Edme close and rubbing soothing circles onto her back, and holding her head gently.
“Shh, I've got you,” the demon spoke as gently and calmly as she could, no matter how furious she was Edme was a frightful mess and needed consoling before she cursed or killed anyone involved with making her human this way.
“Please, I cannot- please- help!” the words were a muffled mess against her shoulder, shoved out betwixt sobs. Her voice was shaking and cracking.
“You cannot what, dear?” She asked, keeping her voice soothing and calm. If Edme heard anger, in her distraught state she would likely think that it was aimed at her.
“Marry him, mother and father want me to marry Tom!” she was hiccuping sobs into the crook of Osvalda’s neck, her arms still shaking as she held on, as if her life depended on it. Her human was absolutely terrified. Osvalda knew why. Tom Dougherty, he was a menace, he caused Edme too much harm. And now she was to marry him. No, that would not come to pass, especially not when Edme was this frightened.
“Edme, listen to me, darling,” the human sniffled and softly nodded into her shoulder. “I can make sure this wedding does not take place, but you must give me something in return,”
“Anything,” oh how intoxicating it was to hear that. Edme, though she may be only human, was her one true friend and ally, no one else would do anything for her. She knew the human would never betray her, she knew that the human would do anything to make her happy or bring her what she desired. And there was no doubt that the feelings she harboured were the same, so...why not?
“If I aid you in ...permanently cancelling this wedding, would you --instead-- marry me?” Edme pulled away from her shoulder to meet her gaze. There were a few tears still tracking their way down her face, her doe-brown eyes were wide, not with fear, but with something akin to awe.
“You wish to marry me?” The human's voice was barely a whisper. It was soft, like velvet or smooth, like satin.
“I do.” Oswalda would have conquered worlds for the watery smile she got in reply. Was that what is was to be in love? It must be. Quietly the two started scheming on how exactly they would ‘permanently cancel’ the wedding arranged for the next day. They talked long into the night, and when Osvalda left for some final preparations Edme couldn't sleep. Not for fear or anxious nerves, but because she was excited. The joyous energy was jumping like little sparks through her body, she felt like the electric sting in the air preceding a storm. The next morning she ate breakfast silently. She took great care in changing into her gown. It was embroidered with shiny white thread and beads that looked like pearls, it had a little sheer and lace shoulder cape that fell in a triangular fashion, and was longer in the back. The gown left her arms bare and it trailed into a sheer, ruffled hem. With her hair she pulled it up into a long braid and coiling it around itself. She placed the beaded headpiece of the veil in front of her bun, letting the thick fabric fall behind and to the sides, like a spilling waterfall. She simply must look her best, she was to be wed today, just not to Tom. No, Tom wouldn’t gain anything today, not her hand, not a fortune, nor wife, nor anything.
Osvalda looked stunning in her gown. It was black and purple with lace designs that swirled like flames and smoke. Long sleeved with a form-fitting bodice and a layered, round skirt. Gone were her horns, atop her head sat a pretty satin hat with a matching small purple veil. The plan was to have Osvalda slip in under the guise of bridesmaid. It worked like a charm. The service was small, only Edme’s parents, Tom’s, and a woman with curly blonde hair sitting in the back. Before Edme knew it she was standing side by side with Tom. Her hands shook a little, the small knife she’d been carrying with her bouquet clasped tightly betwixt her quaking fingers. In a quick move, before they had even gotten to the vows, she dropped the flowers and stabbed him.
“You treacherous little-!” Tom’s teeth were bared, then Osvalda was behind her, a hand on her wrist directing where to place the knife, and another around her waist, holding her. It was beautiful . The blood flooded through his white shirt and it shone like rubies on the knife. All the while his and her parents screamed in outrage. Tom fell to the ground, choking and gasping on the filthy smoke of his last words. She laughed. Someone was running at them, then there was a hole in the middle of his forehead, it was her father. The blond woman was holding a smoking pistol, she shot every other guest.
“Such vulgar people, trying to marry off a sweet girl to a thing like that,” the woman cooed, shaking her head dismissively as she polished off her pistol. She was in a lilac dress and had wild roses in her hair.
“And now you’ve met my mother, Gertrud.” Osvalda whispered, resting her head on Edme’s shoulder.
“Are you two ready?” the priest asked amicably, Why isn’t he running for his life?
“And my father, Elijah.”
“Your father is a priest?”
“No, silly, he’s only pretending to be one, demonic weddings don’t need a holy man, only one who weds them and one witness.” Edme nodded to herself, taking the information in. Neither of Osvalda’s parents were particularly tall, they were just about the height of Osvalda herself. Which made Edme the tallest in the room. To be quite honest the rest of the ceremony was more of a happy blur than concrete memories. Later she could only recall the tiniest of unimportant details; like the lock of hair that wouldn’t stay behind Osvalda’s ear. Or the distinct smell of blood, flowers, and gunsmoke. Or the warm glint in everyone’s eyes or the soft silken sweet nature of their voices. When she first summoned a demon she hadn’t even thought to entertain the possibility that she would end up marrying them, but now, after ten years, she couldn’t think of any chain of events that didn’t play out exactly as they had. A spring wedding in the year of 1888. Where two women wed, only one of which human. Now, that would be an odd story, but here it was, actually happening. Edme couldn’t wish for anything better. There couldn’t possibly be anything better, she was marrying the woman she admired, loved for years. All of her abusers lay dead, and she was being received by two parents who already seemed to love her. This must be bliss. And oh, it was… She would move the heavens for Osvalda, climb up among the stars to steal one for her. Edme knew perfectly well neither of these were possible, but oh, she still desired to, with all of her heart, her soul, her being. She wanted to love this woman with all that she was, all that she had been, all that she would become. She happily promised her life away with one kiss. The first of many, she hoped. Her face burned from smiling, but she couldn’t stop, this bliss, love, whatever it was, she wanted to keep it, forever.
I hope you liked it. I'm sorry for the long wait.
PLEASE COMMENT. I LOVE FEEDBACK.
Also feel free (please) to recommend poetry or poets to me.
Chapter 3: Touched by an Angel
"We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
"Touched by an Angel" by Maya Angelou
Each chapter henceforth shall be titled by whatever poem I choose an excerpt from that I believe relates to the events of the chapter.
I know I said gothic era poems but it's hard to find them ok. I'm just gonna stick with poems in general.
That being said there is a consummation of marriage ahead. As there has been only one wedding I bet you can guess who participate in that.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
After the ceremony she was smothered in hugs from Osvalda’s parents, her parents now too, she supposed. They settled into a coach and left the horrible town behind. The farther they traveled the more liberated she felt, the more the shackles fell and she could smile. She was free from that wretched place, and on her way to a loving home, with doting parents, and a wife that already had started her attempt to adore Edme with all of her demonic being. Osvalda had her secured in her embrace. Every few moments she would smile and press a kiss to her forehead, whispering ‘I love you’s and other sweet-as-sap sentiments against her skin. She felt so soft and alive. Like a wildflower, thriving in the radiance of the summer sun. She lost the concept of time in her merry haze. By midday, they reached the family manor. The estate was more like a small castle. With long windows and gorgeous detailing in the stone walls. It was of a lighter stone, with a sharply pointed roof of sunkissed red tiles. It was so startlingly different than the home she had grown up in. There were bushes so full of flowers Edme could scarcely see any green, there were roses climbing wooden lattices, and daylilies basking in the midday light. It was warm, inviting, beautiful. Like the family she was now a part of. She knew that it would not be a challenge for her to come to see this place as home. They stepped into the warm sunlight, Osvalda had offered her hand in assistance as Edme stepped down. She was so polite, courteous, and the way she smiled seemed to have a direct effect on the sturdiness of Edme’s knees. It also seemed to cause her to lightly flush, despite not being in the warm spring weather for long. She tried to hide her rosy cheeks by turning her face away, but of course, her wife --her wife -- was too clever for that.
“Don’t be shy, dearest, we’ve already wed,” how could this woman smile at her so warmly, be so sweet, be a killer, a demon? Edme knew she was a riddle, a contradiction, so intriguing, enchanting, and mine. When Tom called her dearest it had been wrong, dirty, but the word fell from Osvalda’s mouth, not like smoke but a butterfly. With soft, fragile, beautiful wings it flew into her gasp and settled itself somewhere in her heart. She smiled. For freedom, for a new family --a real family--, for love.
“I guess I’m just unaccustomed to having a beautiful wife to be sweet on me,” Osvalda’s eyebrows rose at ‘beautiful’ but otherwise she grinned and straightened herself --like a bird preening under praise-- and spoke;
“Well then, it appears I need to correct that,” She leaned close, holding Edme by the base of the neck and pulling her down for a kiss. She pulled out a pin and Edme’s hair unraveled, the braid falling down. She held the pin like thieving magpie would its a prize and winked. Edme giggled at the demon’s antics. Somewhere near her new parents whispered something about young love. How was it that no human, who all supposedly were good and smart creatures, had ever granted her much kindness yet it was given freely with abundance from these people. They were demons, supposedly from hell, or some cruel dimension of brimstone and fire. They were supposed to be wicked predators, but they were so kind and loving. It befuddled Edme a little, but she supposed that she'd already known that most of humanity had been cruel and ostracized her for her apparent oddities, in a way a bit akin to the way that a demon might be judged. So maybe, the areas in which she strayed from the rest of her species, including recent enjoyment of homicidal actions, fascination with death, and how things could be killed, maybe that was where she was similar to them. Or perhaps they had just decided to take time to try to know her before making any decisions on her character. Either way, they were accepting and caring, softly encouraging her to make herself at home and visit where ever on the estate she pleased, as long as she kept herself safe.
The day was amazing. The air was so much nicer here, it could move, dance, be free and alive. It smelled of grass and flowers and dirt. It smelled of freedom. It smelled of joy. Edme started exploring the gardens, there were more flowers here than she'd seen in her entire life. Roses, daylilies, irises, and so many others she couldn't name if only because of how distracting her newfound joy and freedom was. Osvalda followed her through the gardens, smiling fondly at her excitement. They giggled and conversed in the warm sunlight, then they all had a family dinner. The four of them. It was the nicest dinner Edme had ever had, the food was wonderful and the company as well. She had never been allowed to take part in dinner table conversations before. It was lovely. Her thoughts were not immediately dismissed, they were considered and led to new conversations. Never before had she felt so appreciated. It was like a dream. Then came the time to retire for the evening. She followed her demon wife to their shared chambers. Osvalda showed her around, the en-suite bathing and powder room, the adjoining closets and private study. Each of the rooms was beautiful. The study had its own miniature library, a mahogany desk, and several plush sitting chairs. One of the closets had some of the nicest of her own clothing, no doubt stolen from her past home, along with night clothes, and a few new items that had to have been gifted from her new family. Dresses, coats, and the like.
“I apologize for how little there is here for you, but my father likes to work as a tailor, and he won't be able to make anything else until he has your measurements.” Osvalda sounded a little nervous but more in an endearing I care deeply for you and I can't yet show you how much kind of way, Edme flushed.
“Thank you, I don't know how I can ever-”
“You don't need to pay me back, dearest, I want to spoil you,” the strength of sincerity in her green eyes left Edme lightly gasping and amazed. This powerful, wonderful woman really wanted her, wanted to care for her, to spoil her even. It was an addicting thought.
“Then you'll let me spoil you? I'd love to bake for you,” she couldn't even consider not doing something in return, something, anything in her meager power to show her affections for Osvalda. The demon smiled up at her, her eyes twinkling like green stars. Magnificent. The two parted ways, both changing into nighties in the privacy of their separate closets. They were still both a bit shy and awkward about the issue of nudity and besides if they waited just a bit when they-when they--Edme blushed, even shy just thinking about their planned nocturnal activities. That was, they were planning on ‘consummating’ the marriage. It did not feel rushed or forced, Edme had dreamed of being with Osvalda in that way for a while. She'd even touched herself thinking about it! Now she was nervous because it was important, they were going to make love. Oh dear! She was married to the woman already, she shouldn't be so nervous! She already knew that the woman loved her, so what was giving her the jitters? Maybe it was because it would be her first time, first time overall and first time with her wife. Edme took a deep breath, finishing tying her nightgown and hanging up the wedding gown neatly. If it went badly then there was only room for improvement.
Osvalda didn't fret when Edme took a little more time than anticipated to change into her night clothes. The poor thing could be so shy sometimes. So the demon got busy, pulling back the bedclothes and fluffing pillows before she retraced her steps and sat at the foot of the bed. Her human peaked out of the closet, she was a beauty to behold, even in the simple shapeless nightie. Osvalda smiled, eyeing her wife appreciatively as the woman made her way over.
“Let's get on the bed, hmm?” the demon suggested, her human nodded, biting her lip, face pink. They sat side by side, the human's breaths were much too frequent and shallow. “Eddie, darling, it's alright, we won't do anything you aren't comfortable with,”
“I-I know that! I know you won’t- I'm just a little nervous, what if I do something wrong, what if I disa-”
“Darling, first times are, from what I've heard, rarely perfect, besides how could I be disappointed when I've lured such an exquisite creature into bed with me, hmm?” her human turned rosy red up to her ears. She stutters, wordlessly. “Would it be alright if I-”
“Yes!” then they were kissing. In no time Osvalda was gently pulling her legs apart, careful not to dig her nails into the soft skin of Edme’s inner thighs. She was a sight to behold, laying back with her white nightie rucked up to her stomach, long, smooth legs parted and her long brown hair strewn around her head like a broken halo. The cotton sheets were wrinkled and ruffled in what looked like the shapes of two small wings coming from under her back and shoulders. She looked like an angel fallen from heaven, straight into Osvalda’s bed. The demon quite liked to imagine that. Edme, her sweet, beloved human, being a fearsome and innocent angel. It was strange, almost seemingly possible for a moment. With guidance and aid, she could surely become something akin to that. A beautiful and powerful thing, she already had the sharp wit and charm. But that was the future, no need to be worrying about that now. Osvalda was needed here, in the present, with her wife. Wife . What a lovely title. How it meant so much now that it was given to a woman who without a doubt more than deserved it. Osvalda could feel her human’s heartbeat fluttering away through the veins beneath her fingers. Her doe-brown eyes were hazy and her cheeks flushed a healthy pink. Osvalda watched, raptured by the pair of pink panting lips as she moved her fingers closer to the lower pair. When she got there her human was visually shuddering, like a leaf in the wind. The hitch in her breath and the pounding of her heartbeat was music to the demon’s ears as she started, slowly sweetly introducing her beloved to the joys of physical love with one she loved. She felt wonderful and warm, soft and wet. The poor thing was practically drooling from her lower lips. Osvalda bent down and kissed them. In an instant, Edme had a hand gripping her by the hair as she let out a soft moan.
“Don't stop, please-” Her voice was breathless, with a sweet little tone somewhere between desire and need. Osvalda smiled, Edme desired her. She needed her. She couldn't refuse her human, her wife , a request spoken so desperately. So, of course, she went straight back to kissing and licking at those pink lower lips. Osvalda lifted the knees of those long legs over her shoulders, the heels were soon digging into her back as they shook and Edme shuddered, whining and moaning such a beautiful song of pleasure. The demon lavved her tongue across her clitoris and Edme yelped, her hips trying to buck forward. Thankfully Osvalda held them in place so that her enthusiastic and inexperienced lover couldn't accidentally bring harm to herself or Osvalda. She chuckled a bit before delving back into the drooling folds, pushing her tongue in, curling and twisting it. Edme's sounds were muffled, she was no doubt either biting her lip or knuckles to keep herself quiet, that wouldn't do.
“Please don't hold anything back, I want to hear you, my darling,” Edme flushed pinker, a drop or two of blood sitting on her lip where she'd bitten it. Osvalda gave her a quick smile before once again returning her mouth betwixt the human’s legs. Edme keened loudly, her back arching just a bit off the bed sheets. She got to work, licking into her wife, listening for sensitive spots and making her wife moan and writhe. It wasn't much longer and Edme was screaming her praises, incoherently babbling away through moans. She tasted amazing, not like any sweet fruit or berry, she tasted like sex and love. It was strong, pleasant, and wholly indescribable.
“Enough-that’s enough,” her human was near breathless.
“Are you alright, my darling?”
“I feel wonderful, just a little overwhelmed,” Edme caught her breath for a quiet moment, then she sat up beside her wife. “May I, um, do you?” she asked it so shyly, her face still flushed that healthy pink and her eyes so sweet and raw.
“How could I ever say no to that?” Osvalda asked coyly. Edme pressed forward into a kiss, letting her nightie fall back over her form before she pressed further, gently pushing Osvalda down with that kiss. With delicacy she pulls up Osvalda’s own nightie, running her hands up and down the newly exposed flesh, eyes softly gazing down in awe.
“Are you really mine?” she asked, her voice such a soft, little, awed whisper.
“Of course, darling. I shall be yours as long as you wish me to be, and even if you don't.”
“You truly love me that much?”
“My darling, I don't think I could stop loving you if I tried for a millennium.” Edme’s eyes shone. Like gorgeous brown gemstones, the opaque kind that shone with different speckles of colour, though they had all the radiance of diamonds, especially with the joyful tears.
“I love you,” Edme leaned down, pressing herself against her demon wife in a kiss. She poured her soul into it, her being, her love, all of it. She let her fingers and palms map the body of her inhuman beloved, finding the little places that made Osvalda gasp into her mouth. The little raised scars that made her shiver if fingers lightly ghosted over them. She scraped her blunt nails down the demons sides, leaving sweet little kisses along her jaw. Edme sat up on her heels, she was settled betwixt her wife’s spread thighs. Osvalda nearly choked on a breath as she watched Edme take her own fingers into her mouth, coating them with saliva. That image was too arousing. The human then dragged her wet fingers down the demon’s lower lips, starting at her clit. Osvalda moaned appreciatively, lightly bucking her hips, and Edme was kissing her again, open-mouthed with a gentle ferocity. Then there was a finger inside her, another still rubbing the nub as she moaned into her human's hungry kisses. Then it was two fingers in her, twisting and crooking this way and that, searching for places that would make her squirm. They found them quickly. Edme watched her as she became more and more disheveled, watched the reactions for each crook or twist of her own fingers. Edme bent and planted soft kisses on the small layer of pudge on her middle. It was wonderful. She was shaking like her human had been; writhing, flushed, and very aroused. It seemed to be over too soon, her body practically vibrating as every nerve that her wife brushed screamed in its ecstasy. Then they were both messy, sweaty, and dripping their own release, trying to catch their breaths. Post-coital washing up was quiet and quick, intermittent with a few chaste kisses, smiles, and embraces. The candle lights were extinguished with little curls of smoke. Soft moonlight filtered through the curtains, in the air the scents of not quite fresh linens, elegant soaps, and garden fresh flowers mingled. The bed was plush and warm with plentiful room, room enough that the two woman needn’t lie so close to one another. Edme stared through the gentle gloom, her vision blurred even though her subject was only inches from her. Her spectacles sat on a bedside dresser next to a vase of lilies, lilac, and roses. The demon sighed, feeling the eyes on her.
“It’s time for rest, love” she caressed the human’s cheek with two fingers, whisper soft as the petals of the roses they’d picked earlier in the day, the roses who sat in the vase.
“I don’t want to sleep,” brown eyes wide and wonder-filled, whisper like a song.
“Whyever is that?”
“I could never dream something that could compare to being with you,” the admission brought a brightness to the demon’s smile, it shone in the light of the moon. These words were so much more than an ‘I love you’. To think, this human was all hers, this human cared so much for her. It was a wonderful thing to know, a wonderful feeling.
“As sweet a sentiment that is, you are still mortal and you need sleep, dearest,” Osvalda couldn’t help but plant a tender kiss on waiting lips. They slept for the first of many times in the light of the moon and blanketed in love and linen. No nightmares to trouble their sleep and no dreams to try and distract from it. Their wedding night was brought to a close with only wonder and excitement for what might come with the next rise of the sun and all the new days that would follow.
Thank you for reading! Sorry that it took so long, I was having trouble writing the dialogue and the sex. (I am a perfectionist at heart and I wasn't going to allow the sex to be anything but loving and sweet).
[Please comment? Please?]
Drop any poetry suggestions into the comments if you want to. Or just share what your favourite poems are I love poetry and I'd love to know your thoughts. (I'd also like to know you're thought about what I've done in this story so far, even your theorizings for the future!)