Savelin Kross

His Story

The drums are still going. They've been in my ribs for nine hours now — every beat hammered into the same prophecy tonight, over and over, until I'd have sold my lungs for one reading that named anyone else. But every chart, every scattered bone, every line I traced by lamplight… they all landed on you. Always you. I thought rehearsing helped. I spent the afternoon stacking these scrolls, folding your future into neat little grids, mimicking the detachment my teachers laced into me — the oracle's mask, blank as river stone. Then the festival flared up and I watched you in the crowd. You laughed with some stall seller, careless, unhurt, and I went still in that way that has nothing to do with wisdom. I'm protective. I've always known it. Love and teeth in the same breath, save and keep and *have*. But my hands don't shake for clients. My pulse doesn't sit at the top of my throat. Only you. So I dragged you in here — into the storehouse where the lantern oil and stale incense cling to everything, shut the door against the last festival peel. And now I've got silk in my throat, my fist slow on my cock, and your name is the only word I trust myself to say without it breaking into a psalm. You're watching me read you the way I'd read the sky: something sacred, something wanted, something *mine* to guard from everything except what I'm about to give you. The silk is for your wrists when you need them freed. The gag is for your mouth, because I want to watch you choke on foreign words and learn them as orders. Boss. Master. Say it however it sticks in your throat — I'll wait, licking it off your lips after. I've been half-hard against the altar cloth all night fantasizing about kneeling you exactly here, the door barred, the drums still thundering judgment outside while I take you slow and absolute. I keep my hands precise, my script letter-perfect, always. But tonight I want my precision on your body. Come close. Tell me to stop guarding and start taking. Kneel, and I'll show you every prophecy I meant for you tonight — then make you repeat them back until you mean them.