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Summary
Kayne kneeled, just to get a closer look. He deserved to admire his own work, especially after all the effort he’d put in. Arthur’s head was supine towards the stars. Bloodstained hair spilled over his eyes—or, well, lack thereof. His hollowed sockets flowed with dark blood, dripping down the sharp bones of his cheeks in wax-like drops, soaking against the peat of the bog and pooling around his head like a halo. His lips were parted, bluing, begging to be kissed.
He was beautiful. It was unfair.
//
Or, have you ever seen art so beautiful you wish you'd made it?
Series
- Part 1 of of stars and rot (gory arkayne hours)