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Outside the evening sky brooded, rumbling as the clouds began to pelt the ground in unrelenting hail. Fortunately, you and Joshua were concealed by the ceiling of the cave. Not too far from where you stood, a subdued fire offered you some warmth against the rain battering the mouth of the cave. You'd just escaped the hail, shivering as you took a seat. Joshua craned his head towards you in acknowledgement. You gestured to the roll in your hands of fresh bandages and he sighed.
‘You are to leave Zion.’ Joshua spoke. He knew the answer, and it seemed more like a final acknowledgement of your departure. Gathering the frugal roll in your hands, you sighed. Tonight was your last night, time was scant, and you preferred to spend what time you had left with him. Something selfish kept you returning, when it would be less painful for you both if you stayed away altogether.
‘I must.’ you answered.
‘It is the duty you have undertaken, not unlike my duty to the Lord.’
His blue eyes considered you closely before glancing away as you reached for his hand to unravel the bandages, something the privilege of your friendship had granted. He knew you'd always come to him of your own volition, to seek his counsel or merely enjoy what company he could afford you. It warmed him with a strange, regretful feeling.
‘And I have the utmost faith you will accomplish what is intended.’ he said, his eyes returning to you solemnly. You began to unwind the bandages on his fingers, carefully touching his charred skin. You didn’t know whether his finger tips had much sensation left in them.
‘To deny you of your duty would be a sin and God would not allow this,’ he continued. You weren’t certain if he was musing or making conversation, so you nodded vaguely in acknowledgement. You continued to unwind the bandages, ignoring the scent of sweat on his mottled skin. With a cloth you carefully dabbed the dampness away with water, then used the other to dry it so no moisture could irritate it. Medication and antiseptic was scarce resources but fortunately, he seemed to have built a natural resilience over the years of re-exposure. If he was in pain, there was very little indication of it. The agonising silence made your words rise to your lips.
‘I would not leave Zion, if-’
You stopped, realising what you’d nearly admitted. Quickly, you relinquished his re-bandaged hand and placed it back on his lap, your eyes lowered with shame. You knew and he knew; you would not leave Zion if he asked it of you. A mere glance into his eyes made your determination waver. You could almost conceive the pain it took to blink, when the stiff skin of his eyelids were practically welded to the arches of his eyebrows.
You knelt down, your palms resting on his knees as you dared to look up at him. A faint heat radiated through the denim, concealed by the many layers that denied you of his skin. You were shaking in anticipation, mouth dry as cotton.
With baited breath, you watched as Joshua leaned over the desk and retrieved his Bible. He leaned back into the chair with a small creak, and opened the book, his eyes roving the pages in silence.
In the dim light of the cave, he balanced the weight of the Bible on his knee, one hand securing the cover to his thigh by its spine, the other meandering over the crisp, ivory surface of the pages. He thoughtfully contemplated the verses, selecting what he was seeking, before speaking.
‘As the Lord said,’ he began gravely. ‘You shall not make for yourselves an idol, nor any image of anything that is in the heavens above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth: you shall not bow yourself down to them, nor serve them, for I, Yahweh your God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children, on the third and on the fourth generation of those who hate me, and showing loving kindness to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments.’
When he finished speaking, he set the Bible on the desk, idly stroking the leather cover.
‘Yet what the Lord commands of you is not only this,’ he continued. In the ensuing silence, your breath echoed through the cave. Abruptly, he fixed his focus on your face, seething with unspoken intent.
‘It was in my lapse of judgement that I committed the first sin,’ he said, his eyes paralysing you with their fiery quality. ‘For I once asked that you keep my commandments alone before His - even if it was not what the Lord's plan intended. Each time you departed, I unfairly commanded your return to Zion and... your return to me. Understand that you have been a good friend and a good neighbour to the people of Zion but I cannot pretend I am content with this. It is selfish, but true. My nights are sleepless - for it is not I, but God who is the arbiter of your will. I wish for you to remain at my side - for a selfishness wickedness has corrupted me. So that I might keep you as my own, and possess you always.'
‘Joshua…’ you could barely speak, your hands trembling as you fiddled with the clean bandages.
‘I recognise your tireless devotion, not unlike that of the one I have for our Lord.’
He took your hands in his own and you cradled them, scarcely daring to so much as twitch a finger for fear of causing him discomfort.
‘We must... remind ourselves that idolatry is a sin,’ he said. ‘Yet it my weakness, the weakness of man that corrupts me. This perversion in me... cannot deny your worship. I deny myself all worldly pleasures but this. In you, I would not find a finer wife in wealth of spirit and pureness to possess as my own, yet you do not belong to me. I must set you free, so that you might find another. It is nothing more than an act of baseless greed to keep you as my own, like the farmer who hoards the fruits of his trees although he cannot taste them.’
Your eyes widened slightly. The fact he found you worthy of being his wife made your heart soar with love and grief. All of it far out weighed your trepidation. You had only ever wanted his acknowledgement, his affection.
‘Joshua…’ your hands reached up, barely touching his cheeks. ‘There is no sin in adoration.’
His hands closed over your own. For an instant, you could cherish the touch of his ashen fingers, but your heart sank into your stomach as he lowered your hands from his face.
‘Then you must cast your eyes to the Lord. And heed my words; for I am not worthy.’
Shaking your head, you rose from your kneeled position to face him. His eyes followed you, burning with unfulfilled promise. With the utmost carefulness, you straddled his waist, hovering over his thighs as you gazed down at him.
You approached him slowly and his brow furrowed, gathering into a tormented knot at the centre, your thumbs touching the haunted, charred skin.
Closing your eyes, you pressed a feather-light kiss to the gentle divot in the fabric beneath his nose, where you sensed his lips were. His head twitched towards you faintly. You felt an almost imperceptible tremor race through his body.
‘This is an unkindness. An ungodly cruelty but perhaps I am deserving of it.’ he said against your lips. You scarcely heard his strained breath in the darkness. ‘I am not infallible to temptation. If it is your intention to misguide me, to lead me astray from what is right and just, to be my fire which I am to burn in, then deny me no longer. Let us commit this sin together.’
Holding his stormy gaze, you started to gently rock your hips, your lips parting with a soft moan. He sighed through his nose, his hands sliding up to your waist, savouring the sensation of skin beneath his palms.
’Then, Father, I must confess...’ you whispered, your lips tracing the shell of his ear. He could feel the vague warmth of your mouth through the bandages and lamented he could not hear your voice as clearly as he wished.
‘Confess all to me, my child.’
His searing gaze made heat rush to your cheeks, and much lower.
Joshua's hands began to smooth up your back, committing the muted feeling of your smooth skin to memory but he stopped at the strap that concealed your breasts. He dared not push his luck by coming on too swiftly. You took a sharp breath. Sensing his hesitation, you whined lightly. His other hand dragged your shirt down by the collar, as he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, revealing your bare skin, still slightly damp from the rainfall outside. You smelled like sand, and heaven, rain and the Mojave, gunpowder, madness. Irresistible to him.
‘I want you...’ you whispered, your words breathy with desire. Withdrawing, you pulled your top over your head, unclipping your bra, so that your breasts fell from them. You moaned with relief, continuing to rock your hips as you discarded your shirt on his desk.
‘Have mercy on me, O Lord,’ he said thickly. Your lips mouthed a trail from his temple to his shoulder, as his fingers dug into your hips, rough and frustrated by the limitations of his taut skin, scarcely able to grip you as tightly as he desired. He wanted to bruise you, possess you, claim you as his own. The remnants of the Legion stirred in him as he felt your breasts press against his chest. Every fibre of his being burned like a slave to desire, he wanted to bend you over the table and take you like a whore - punish your innocence for the silent suffering he’d endured, incensed to sleeplessness each night at the mere thought of your proximity.
You pulled back, searching his gaze.
‘Joshua,’ you placed your hands on his chest, trying to touch there as gently as possible as you rubbed small circles. ‘I want to feel you.’
You had no idea how you’d ruined him, how you eroded his resolve. Each time he knelt in meditation, he was no longer filled by images of the Holy Mother, which, although he did not worship her, came to his thoughts often. Instead, he was plagued by imaginings of that tender and warm place between your thighs, the taste of it, even if he destroyed his lips for a mere wisp of your sweetness.
His hands framed your shoulders. He seemed to be seeking something in your eyes as you waited.
‘You know not who I am, not of my deeds,’ he started. ‘And you know not who I was. If you did, you’d want to know nothing at all. I have no desire to tarnish your perception of me.’
You suspected it would come up. You knew he’d have reservations, if not for his own sake, then to protect you from the 'moral indignity' of sleeping with him.
‘And you should not presume to know what I do not know,’ you whispered. Leaning close to his ear, you added: ‘I know everything.’
He swallowed as you withdrew, his mouth growing dry as canvas. His skin burned like it was exposed, yet it was your scrutiny that was scalding. He couldn’t release your eyes, nor could he stand for them to pierce his shell and look within him so easily. He could not stand, most of all, how readily he allowed the intrusion.
‘How can this be?’ He asked into the fragile space between you. He shook his head. ‘It does not matter. I’m not wont to overlook the Lord’s blessings. If I am in your favour, I must know: do you accept all that you have uncovered?’
Without missing a beat, you answered:
‘I accept it but I do not condone or excuse it.’
He felt relief flood him. He was certain you knew the truth.
‘And that is as it should be,’ Joshua answered. ‘It is by the Lord’s will and mercy that forgiveness exists. And redemption is at hand, even for the wicked.’
‘Wicked, indeed…’ you murmured, and the kiss you placed on his bandaged lips had fire racing through his blood. He rose abruptly. You caught your balance against the desk, your head shooting up questioningly. Taking your hand in his grip, so firmly your fingers whitened, he led you deeper into the cave. In a gloomy alcove, where the leftover light sent a tawny glow glancing over the stone’s face, there was a lone mattress, modest, clean, quilt-less. Rain that coagulated on the roof of the cave began to drip down, kissing your heated skin.
He kneeled, half concealed by the darkness and you followed. Although he was concealing it, he wasn’t certain how to continue. He had not considered touching himself or being touched in a very long time. Such a notion only existed in fantasies he quelled and eventually discarded as he’d grown older. The heat in his blood was a shock to his system, a foreign toxin that had him feverish and smouldering with repressed desires, beneath bandages wound too tightly to his skin. His instinct was to take them off to alleviate the heat building beneath them, but the agony was knowing they’d burn doubly from pain and yearning.
‘Come here, child.’
He urged you closer, trying to keep his voice steady. Your eyes glistened hopefully as you obeyed him. You had an irresistible innocence about you, girlish coyness wrapped up in a sensual, unorthodox, Mojave exterior that sent the blood between his thighs. It demanded his focus. Despite his reservations, his body was urging him to move faster.
‘Undress me,’ he ordered.
Holding your gaze with his penetrating eyes, he placed your hands on his chest, leaving them to rest there before withdrawing. You found the zipper of Joshua’s SWAT vest, drawing it downwards before removing it. Then, you tried to unbutton his shirt. He could sense the anxiety radiating off of you, so fearful that the slightest touch might cause him pain. Although you could not see his smile, his eyes narrowed with fondness as he covered your hands with his own. Slowly, he undid the buttons to help you along. You immediately scrambled behind him, to draw the sleeves off before folding and placing the vest and shirt near the mattress. He noticed the reverence with which you handled his possessions.
‘Thank you,’ he said simply.
Your heart palpitated wildly as you shuffled back in front of him.
‘Lie down.’ he said.
Memories flashed before his eyes - of slave girls, memories he’d long abandoned, and he tried to force them away, cast them out, as he had to his slaves when he had reached completion, and thoroughly used them. But you were here now, and you were here of your own will. There was no doubt to be had of it. Yet he found himself hesitating, paralysed by an almost unshakeable unease. Joshua sighed resolutely. He knew better than to ruminate on the past too deeply.
Gingerly, you eased yourself onto the mattress. For a moment, he watched you, before placing one hand on your thigh. You smiled as he stroked from your knee to your hip, repeating the motion uncertainly. His touch sent a warmth to the apex of your thighs, but it was also soothing. As his hand slid up your thigh again, you captured his knuckles in your palm and gave a slight tug. Following your initiative, he mounted you, lowering his body between your thighs. You could feel the buckle of his belt, press with promise against your belly.
Your hands moved from his forearms to his shoulders as you smiled up at him reassuringly, squeezing there in hopes of releasing some of the tension. Encircling your wrists with his hands, he slid them above your head and held them there on the mattress. You looked up at him questioningly.
‘I’m sorry,’ you started nervously. ‘Joshua, did that hurt?’
His heavy gaze drifted along your face, and you flinched like a hot stone was being dragged across your cheek.
‘No.’ he replied, but without elaboration his intentions remained an enigma. His thumbs pressed into your wrists. He couldn’t feel the texture of your skin on his fingertips but when he dug into them hard enough, he could feel your pulse. Aching, he lowered his weight completely until it rested on your chest, taking the pressure off of his knees. His skin could hear your heart beating furiously, strong enough he could hear it through two layers of bandages. He preferred you like this, where you remained within what he had the strength to control, even if to do it - it took him everything.
‘Joshua,’ you looked up at him pleadingly, begging with your eyes and parted lips. He shuddered.
‘I cannot deny myself any longer,’ he said. In truth, he couldn't deny you. Rising, he unbuckled his belt. Your hands curled, itching to help him but you obeyed him and kept them above your head. As he slid the belt out of the loops, he discarded it next to the mattress, and it hit the stone with a purposeful thunk. He lowered his jeans after unbuttoning them and then stilled. Finally, you saw his drawers. They reached his knees, snug over the bandages, and providing insulation. His skin was so sensitive to temperature, the slightest overexposure could induce hypothermia. You thought it was a conservative choice until you considered that it had not been undertaken due to mormonism.
Sensing his hesitation, you rose onto your palms and then your knees. Carefully, you slid your arms under his own and embraced him, resting your head beneath his chin. Despite your seemingly calm demeanour, he could feel your heart beat speeding up, your breath shallow and fast.
‘Do not be afraid,’ he began. ‘Yet, I cannot confidently say without doubt that it is not inevitable. I am not as intact as a man should be. I fear you will find disappointment in me. It is not my desire that you feel I am inadequate.’
He groaned as your grip tightened slightly.
‘To sin in thought - to sin in mind, is to sin in matter.’ Joshua spoke. ‘But God is just, He is merciful. The Lord God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able, and I can bear to look upon your beauty. I bear this labour without complaint, for it is a divine suffering, to behold your perfection in matter. Yet to think that too… is a sin. This is the plight God has bestowed upon me, alongside the infernal heat of this shell I call skin. I cannot cast my eyes from you.’
Grazing his nose from your shoulder to your temple with a deep inhale, his hands clutched your face. You could feel the restrained passion radiating off of him, as he leaned forward to whisper into the shell of your ear softly:
‘I am burning.’
You shuddered, releasing an overwhelmed moan at his husky words. His gravelly voice caused wetness to pool between your thighs, although he’d hadn’t touched you between them.
‘Joshua…’ you pushed away from him, twitching restlessly, your gaze urgent. His name was question on your lips as your hands drifted to the waistband of his drawers. You waited, barely breathing.
‘Remove them.’ he answered.
Holding your breath, you lowered the waistband of his drawers to his knees. At the apex of his thighs, the bandages were wrapped in an overlapping fashion, leaving a diamond shaped patch of skin exposed between them, that was calloused and unevenly burned. There, a fleshy, scarred stump protruded slightly, no longer than a handful of inches. You forced yourself to look without judgement, fear or trepidation. But it was not easy. The penectomy had taken some of the length off, and the skin looked coarse and partially charred along the underside. Questions lingered in the back of your mind but you judged that it was not appropriate to ask them.
After looking, you met his gaze again, keeping your feelings carefully guarded.
‘Do not look with pity.’ he said firmly.
‘No, Joshua-’ you shook your head, your eyes immediately tearing with unexpressed adoration, no longer able to hide it. ‘There is no pity. I’m not quite as eloquent with words-'
Taking his hands in your own, you sighed shakily. You were almost moved to speechlessness by the trust he vested in you.
Your voice was thick when you finally spoke, barely managing to.
‘I love you.’
You forced yourself not to look away from his face as you slowly unveiled his mouth. Patches of uneven stubble grew on his jaw, layers of skin burned away and mutilated by Caesar’s rage. Your heart beat began to leap, your extremities growing tingly from panic.
You could see the cleft in his chin, the heat having nearly ravaged down to bone.
There was no pinkness where his lips were, no fleshy protrusion. The skin that encircled his teeth was dry and chapped, discoloured and peeling in leathery strips. Patches of skin had likely been cut off, with the gaps sewn closed quickly and unevenly, giving his mouth a jagged tautness. His lips, even closed, could not completely hide his bottom or lower teeth from your sight. Some parts of his mouth were blackened. You almost mistook them for being necrotic, but like his fingers, they were charred. You pondered if there was any sensation left in them, if anything you did, would make him feel good.
Your focus returned to his upper face, and you melted again under the reassuring gaze of his stone-blue eyes.
Now that you could, you tried to kiss him as gently as possible. You gave him fleeting kisses, that barely landed and remained on his lips, like the dance of an enamoured butterfly upon his skin. With each chaste kiss, his lips gradually puckered to respond to yours, barely answering as he took heavy, nasal breaths. The exertion and pain of the damaged muscles and effort it took to wield them, began to bead in droplets of sweat, creating a sheen beneath his eyes.
When he breathed through his mouth, you could taste the abraded wounds on his lips, the antiseptic lotion, the faint salt of his sweat, and the taste of his breath, a mild smell, somewhat unsavoury. Dental deterioration was inevitable in the wasteland.
You continued that way, kissing in a delicate, stilted fashion with little pecks until he stopped you.
He didn’t want to tell you he could barely feel what you were doing. Instead, he deepened the kiss abruptly. His hand clasped the back of your head, securing your mouth to his own as he delved past your lips. You gasped into his mouth, squeezing his shoulder blades as you arched into him. His hands slid down to your upper arms, seizing you tightly. With restrained force, he bore down on you with his weight. You fell back onto the mattress. Your kiss was sloppy, dry, disjointed but so unbearably passionate. Every part of your body ached for him to touch you as you tasted his breath, moaned as he panted into the space between your lips, audible and uninhibited.
The stump rested between your bodies and a wave of need rushed through you feeling what was left of his arousal pressed on your belly. He was still a man, and he was determined not to let you forget it.
When you parted, a coppery flavour lingered on your tongue. His lips had split, the flesh bleeding easily. You dabbed your mouth and some tissue from his mouth and the skin that was peeling off came away on your fingers in feathery fragments. You lifted your fingers in front of your face and glanced at him. Desire, sympathy and revulsion warred within you.
‘I wanted to give you the kiss you deserved,’ he said. You smiled in tearful disbelief at his selflessness and shook your head. An unacknowledged yearning raced through you, closing your throat.
‘Oh Joshua….’
You embraced him, conscious of the pain he was in. Your lips met again with shaky pecks, as your hands reached between you, and shucked off your jeans. After draping them in a pile next to Joshua’s clothes, you hooked one thigh over his hip and guided him onto his side. Without your pressure on him, or his on you, he would likely be a bit more comfortable and you were more than happy to accommodate him. His hand fell on your calf as his lips caressed your jaw, his other hand gently sweeping the hair from your face. Outside the hail intensified, drowning your shuddering breaths.
‘I don’t know if I am able to… reach completion.’ Joshua commented. He took an unsteady breath, as the stump of his cock brushed your aching core. ‘It is the Lord’s unique punishment,’ he continued. ‘And I am deserving of this one entirely.’
When he didn’t press forward, you waited, considering your words carefully.
‘We don’t need to do this,’ you started, stroking his arm. The touch helped you remain clear headed. ‘Your pleasure is important to me.’
‘As is yours to me,’ he answered. ‘Therefore there is no greater pleasure than for us to share this experience - to be unified in a matrimony of the flesh, as man, and as woman.’
Once his fidelity had been to his own pleasure, and now, he was certainly being recompensed for it.
‘Okay,’ you nodded, feeling more reassured. ‘Okay, Joshua.’
He rested his hand against your cheek, stroking idly for a moment.
Then, you gasped as he pressed forward with a shallow thrust, his hand curling into your hair tightly. He bit back a groan, releasing a stilted sigh into your collarbone. You could feel him, not as deep as other lovers you’d had, but equally as intense. He held you for a moment, before he started moving. The steady, slow rocking allowed your core to grind against the base of his stump, the rough skin there stimulating your sensitive nerves as you adjusted to the feeling of him. You felt so close already. Close to completion and to tears simultaneously. The tension within you was leaping from a smoulder to flames.
‘Joshua,’ you moaned softly as his mouth danced along the column of your pulse, tasting your sweat with his tongue. ‘You feel so amazing…’ you whispered.
‘Kiss me and kiss me again, for your love is sweeter than wine.’ Joshua spoke against your ear, his voice low and reverent. ‘Beloved Daughter of Zion, I cannot help but gaze upon you, bewitched by your grace.’
You gasped as his thrusts started to speed up, his husky groans, escaping with each breath against the shell of your ear, sending waves of pleasure rushing from the tender skin of your neck to the apex of your thighs. His hand captured your palm, interweaving your fingers, and pinning them above your head as he rolled you over, subjugating you with his weight. It had been too long, despite how desensitised he was, it felt as though he was already teetering, toeing the precipice of blissful oblivion between your thighs.
You started to thrash against him as his thrusts became faster and erratic. Watching your face, he heard the elusive precipice of ecstasy beckoning him and he could not help but chase it blindly, pistoning into your tight heat to relinquish his seed. God forgive him for the sin of what he intended.
‘Oh God! Joshua!’ You threw your head back as his thrusts smothered you into the mattress, his jaw clenched tightly enough for you to see the sinews beneath his marred skin. How sweetly you took the Lord’s name in vain, but it only made him shudder helplessly, hearing your words laced with desire for only his ears. Not even the Lord had audience for them.
‘Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body,’ he demanded, his hips faltering slightly, lips scarcely parted from yours.
‘You are not your own.’
His eyes bored into you, seething. Your cries grew into shrieks, echoing through the cave as he thrust harder and faster, your skin stinging, ecstasy building rapidly in your core.
‘Not the Lord’s.’
Outside the thunder clapped, illuminating the walls in a stark, ethereal glow. You moaned as his heavy hand slipped over your mouth. He could feel the damp heat of your rapture, your fingers squeezing as you tried not to claw crescents into the skin of his shoulders.
‘But mine.’ he growled.
Your eyes widened, ecstasy blinded you and you released a hoarse scream, sobbing with relief as his brow dropped down against your own. He panted, collapsing over you, as his hips continued to tense and pulse with release. Your hand slid down to his buttocks, holding him to you as you moaned deliriously in pleasure. When the waves began to recede, you whimpered, feeling his spend seep from you. He sighed against your shoulder before pressing your mouths together in a chaste kiss. He released your hand from his own shakily and rested his forearms either side of your head.
You smiled, cradling his face in your hands.
‘My beloved is mine, and I am his,’ you declared softly.
Joshua’s eyes crinkled at the corners with undisguised pride, as he rose onto his knees.
‘You have done your reading, child.’
He eased off of you and you instinctively reached out to him.
‘Just one more?’ you asked. You were not quite ready to be parted.
‘Very well,’ he acquiesced to your request patiently. You pressed a kiss against his mouth, missing his lips and kissing his exposed teeth, but you paid no mind to the strange nature of it. Contentment settled over you like a warm blanket. Sleepiness began to muffle your awareness. You absently helped him conceal his face, and wiped off the spend from his stomach, although there had not been a great deal to clean.
‘Thank you.’ he murmured. The two of you settled against the mattress. He reached for his shirt, and you relished the fading warmth of it, and the faint but comforting herbal scent that lingered on the fabric as he draped it over your shoulder. Seeking his warmth, you shuffled closer, carefully resting your face against his collar bone. You could feel his heartbeat, gradually slowing against your chin. Tentatively, his hand rose and slid over your shoulder blades, holding you no more tightly than a new born.
You absently traced the column of his throat, before placing your hand above his heart.
He sighed deeply.
‘The Lord knows as well as I, many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be condemned,’ Joshua murmured. His hands idly stroked up and down your forearm, and you sighed, languishing in the small comfort offered by his fingertips.
‘You love me?’ you whispered.
‘Yes.’ he replied quietly. ‘You are altogether beautiful, my love, there is no flaw on you.’
You scoffed out a laugh, your eyes half lidded and enamoured.
‘Likewise,’ you replied, your voice whistling with exhaustion as you sighed deeply.
‘Sleep, my beloved.’
His voice was soft and gravelly, vibrating in his chest as he spoke. Scarcely shifting, he began to speak to you the Song of Solomon. When he recited the verses, idly stroking your damp brow, you succumbed to the call of sleep, as the hail of Zion continued to kiss the world outside, beyond your hushed embrace.