POMEGRANATE SEEDS

ROUND AND RED

HER HAUNTINGS SHOW A DIFFERENT LIGHT in the absence of the sun. no more than a weary wanderer, fernando is guided by the one person who knows this den. no more a victim than a champion, he finds his home unwelcoming with surprises.

the couch sticks out as his obvious bed for the night. at least, he presume this to go one of two ways. hope for the best but prepare for the worse. that’s why he readies himself for the safe play.

even now.

“i’m afraid my semblance of home is worlds apart.”

his smile dulls into something more neutral. he lets the curiosity in his eyes do the talking.

“i would never be able to find something so lovely.”

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Elisabeth Fiorelli

POMEGRANATE SEEDS

ROUND AND RED

“MONEY ISN’T THE ISSUE,” affords him a cheap laugh. “it’s the attention to detail and homeliness that i can’t seem to replicate.”

like those before her, there’s no doubt that elisabeth will do a double take at his actual housing. John Sullivan had been hard pressed to believe a man of his net worth would live in a simple high scale lilycove condo.

a pale comparison to the grand vineyards of Remiel Calcifet’s estate but a practical solution to a man who rarely stays outside of league headquarters.

where she leads, he follows, up to a point. when she settles on her couch, his eyes wander around, as if looking for an appropriate perch that belies the hierarchy between guest and homeowner.

he finds none and relies on her stare to herd him across from her.

she calls him a liar and he doesn’t flinch. fernando silph has lied a million times over. it comes as natural as breathing.

but in that same vein, fernando silph never lies. the righteous know no fear in the face of false accusation. so his defense is impenetrable.

questioning but far from panicked.

“my business there was to make myself the ideal attraction.”

proximity gives her power over him. goosebumps raise where her words caress him. he sinks into her touch with a small that challenges her assumption.

“a date you cannot follow up with is far from a date to pursue.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

POMEGRANATE SEEDS

ROUND AND RED

SHE GIVES HIM TOO MUCH CREDIT. a man nestled with wealth does not mean one is rife with decadence. after all, money only buys so much.

but her impression aren’t too far off either. they’re both people who have known another. baggage from past ghosts represent the burden that steals away virgin innocence. there is no naivety behind the way she coaxes him closer.

so when fernando sees the stars align, he does her one better.

his lips rest on hers but apply no pressure. he doesn’t push boundaries. he lets it sit, biding his time in a game of chicken.

“what if i told you i was put up to it?”

being here. right now. with you.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

POMEGRANATE SEEDS

ROUND AND RED

HE CAVES. each kiss—an act so small and inconsequential—manages to unravel the difference between an intimate fernando and the silph who sees the world for what it is. here, in the chamber of his heart, she finds an intimacy few have ever known. one reserved for the privacy of bed chambers and closed doors.

“of course.”

he reaches out for her. for her anything. just to put his hands on her. to feel her, whether it be skin of fabric, underneath his fingers.

the quiet of the night, the silence of their solitude, makes her that much more alive. he can hear his heart thump twice underneath the hush of her whisper.

“duty calls and it often calls much too early.”

which she’ll understand come morning.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

POMEGRANATE SEEDS

ROUND AND RED

SHE REIGNS HIM IN. collared by the confines of his own self image. she holds him close and radical gleam of her smile sets of a silent alarm. innocent, but wary.

he does not match her energy. he folds, melting into it with viscosity that adapts to any challenge.

his hand tightens around her thigh.

“i live to serve.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

POMEGRANATE SEEDS

ROUND AND RED

LIKE WATER, he shifts into whatever shape she needs. not the one she asks for but the one the situation calls for. a steady tide rises and it threatens to wash over her. drown her, if she’s not careful.

“do you want me to be selfish?”

small circles from his thumb start to apply weight. he leans into her, ready to topple her should she submit. he could overshadow her in his vastness but he waits for acceptance.

she has to want this.

“or do you enjoy being lavished in service?”

and he has to know it.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

POMEGRANATE SEEDS

ROUND AND RED

“YOUR WISH—”

he doesn’t finish. he can’t.

her inclination proves contagious enough to make him sick to his stomach. a plague that drives him mental as his body burns a temper so hot it hastens his breathing. hitched breathes that tango with the peppered kisses he butterflies across her neck.

she had accepted.

accepted him. accepted all that comes with it. and that, on itself, is enough to uncage the rabid dog she had collared mere moments ago.

to serve is to perform. tame diction that does no justice to the attention she’s demanded. he’s far too groomed to do anything short of his best. all to recreate a magical moment he’s long lost to rose tinted glasses and wistful memories.

“—is my command.”

a pledge is made and a promise christened. when he rises, he is a new man. a man of faith, a man of due diligence.

in the name of love, fernando silph is a pious man.

and tonight, elisabeth fiorelli is the goddess he worships.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli