Keith, always gentle and subservient when it came to her as opposed to Athan, who was relentless and rough.
But then, every time Athan came to a picture and seeing how he interacted with her. Both in mutual respect and admiration, a sudden pang of jealousy bloomed within. But he has no say in it.
The stench of the room was strong and intense, and it wasn't only Keith's that bloomed from it. Long gone he discerned whose it was, and he could care less in the heat of the moment.
Not too long ago, a long, yet thin clothing strap depraved his sight. Only darkness awaited him, and he became overly sensitive when it came to such cold touch.
His body sweltered, more of his sweat beading against his tensed muscles—bruised and sore. But none of it became a discomfort, for his heart sought comfort in Mystique's embrace.
