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Summary
Used to be, you would put your chin on his shoulder and watch him work, whispering ideas in his ears when you wanted to be helpful, whispering other things when you were in the mood for distraction. Galatea carved in statuesque marble, naked and tangled in his sheets, coyly asking him if you were inspiring him.
Now, now you are Aphrodite wreathed in seafoam, beautiful in raw, brutal edges, nestled within the mouth of a clamshell.
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Elliott loves you, dead at sea. Elliott loves you, somehow still alive.
OR
an elaborate excuse to make elliott a monsterfuckerSeries
- Part 2 of Bachelor Oneshots
