Thread: One Man's Trash Is Another Man's Treasure [VIKINGS - boyo111 x Temptationist]

This creature moved so strangely. He was human, surely, one of the Norse men but he did not move like a man. He moved like a serpent. My eyes widened lightly as he slithered his thinner form into the room and began to speak to you. Shifting my gaze to you, it was evident I was concerned. I didn't know what to do nor if this male could cause me any harm. I didn't know what the hierarchy in the system was - if you were a leader, or if you were a servant, like myself. If this snake was a superior, then perhaps I would be vulnerable to his every command. If only I understood the tough Norse language, than I would have a better notion of their relationship - but at this moment, at a time of uncertainty, I only had one thing to base my knowledge, and that was body language. You didn't seem worried. Your glazed over eyes seemed more unimpressed than frightened, and that seemed to bring a sort of calm to my mind. I stayed close to your body, as if a baby pigeon sinking under its mother's wing. I had nothing to defend myself but my wit, but with a man with Norse language, I didn't even have that. I paled in comparison to your size, and even next to a thinner snake-man, I was still tiny. Still, I kept my back strong and my head high, not wanting to coward under his sneaky presence. My eyes tried not to look at him as he approached me, but they couldn't help but shift over to his slimy demeanor. As he grabbed a flock of my hair, I whipped my head to the side, as if to hiss at him. I said nothing, but my reaction was clear in the sharp look in my eyes. Don't touch me. In that moment, my grip tightened in your hand. I wasn't so much afraid now, as I was becoming feisty. Just as quickly as I was to snap my head, you reacted just as fast - smacking his arm away from my body. He retracted like a snake, too. This human I did not understand - I was beginning to see how Anglo men could deem the Vikings as wild. Although I found your monstrous form of fighting intriguing, I found the black-eyed drunk to be distasteful, and offensive. I was relieved as he departed. My grip lightened and I let go of your hand. Is it the ale that causes him to squirm, or does he always move so strangely? Some may have deemed my tongue to be rude, but I was consumed with both irritation and curiosity. I was utterly ignorant to the entire Norse culture, and if I wanted to survive, I had to understand. My eyes trailing back towards you, I watched as you walked over to the bath. I calmly crossed my arms over below my bosom - holding my upper arms in each hand. I watched as the blood scabbed on your body became diluted, and began to wash off of your thick skin. As you looked back towards me and complimented, my enthralled gaze was broken, and my eyes returned to yours. I smiled warmly. The statement had awed me. How could a beast speak with such a sweet tongue? I reveled in its sweetness - having never been told something so beautiful. I opened my mouth to speak, but was speechless as my face reddened. Instead of speaking, I embraced your lips against mine my folded arms falling from position. I lightly grazed my fingers over your defined forearms as my lips separated from yours. I hummed lightly, smiling. Interrupting your hands as they washed your body, I stole the cloth from your grip and smiled. I dipped the bloody cloth into the lukewarm tub and soaked the cloth. The blood transferred to stain the clear water, but I didn't take note of it. Taking the cloth back in my hands, I twisted it tightly and wrung out the excess. Bringing my body extraordinarily close to yours, I began to wipe your body for you. I listened to your words, but stayed quiet as I dragged the cloth over your back, and down your spine. As you asked me to sing, I began to hum a soft lullaby . Gently moving the cloth back up to your shoulder, I pulled your arm back and gently turned you to face me. I continued to hum for you, smiling as my eyes fixated on the blood fading from your skin. Dragging the towel over your chest, I pulled it down the front of you. As I passed it over your chiseled abdomen, my eyes followed the cloth closely as it trailed down your stomach towards the edge of your trunks. Coming to wipe the last splatter of blood, I lightly pulled the cloth away from you right before hitting your pelvic region. My eyes shifted to look at you as the lullaby ceased. For you, anything .