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A Framed: A Short Story

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Moonlight came off the pool casting its aqueous luminescence onto the domed ceilings. There was the echoing of splashes and the low murmur of distant conversations; each one held within their own little bubble seemingly ignorant of the others, each one sharing a secret passed through a whisper. Sansa shared hers' without saying a word. Perhaps if the others knew who Sansa was they would have gawked and stared. But the only one who did was standing in the water waiting for her. Framed beneath his long hair, his eyes locked onto her the entire time. Watching her girlish movements: diffident brushing of her hand against her body, drinking her in from head to toe. If Sansa had seen him as a strange and foreign man, then in the moonlight skinny …show more content…

A maiden so pure to have never experienced a simple cum? He looked upon her, her expression was plagued with confusion and conflict, her fresh faced beauty sullied by his own hand, by his own silver seed of lust. The juxtaposition of innocence and degradation made him stir, made him hard, it couldn't be helped the wretched beast that he was. But he could not deny this tinge of pity that slowly worked its way into his heart. It was a old ancient feeling, like something from a past life, or a childhood nostalgia he could not quite place, he couldn't even remember the last time he felt such a thing. But he knew what it was. It was a chivalrous …show more content…

Her crimson hair unfurled, blossoming like a brilliant swirling halo beneath the ripples of the pool. The bathhouse felt cavernous. There was nothing else but the two of them and the water. In that moment it seemed he could have been anyone. A sense of hope swelled within him, that perhaps by the time he rose from this bath, he would be transformed. Into something, someone. Someone who would not bring harm to the pale beautiful things of this world, who would not leave marks upon their little bodies, someone who would not defile them and rob them of their innocence and joy and turn them into the wretched things that he bought and sold to earn his keep. She looked fae-like in the water, lit by a shaft of moonlight from overhead like something that cannot exist in his world. But he had her, in his arms, within in his power, and by right of law. And in a quiet moment of resignation, as he gazed upon her otherworldly beauty, he came to realize that he could never be those things. He could not be a chivalrous man. He could not change his ways. And he could not give her

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