Fine? Fine with this? I would be more fine with a javelin through the gut. I would barely feel it compared to this. You’re mine. You will always be mine. Nobody else should be allowed to touch you. To look at you. To make you laugh. I want to take you from this jungle tonight—continent, blade, prophecy be damned—and go somewhere nobody can find us. Somewhere I can keep you like buried treasure. Where I can feed you cloverbread, and read to you, and fuck you when I please, and worship you every day and every night for the rest of our lives.
