09-19-2017, 09:36 PM
tangerine
face to the sun
His quiet contemplation of her words means more to her than he knows. He gives her what she needs, yet is ashamed to need as it is given. But Tangerine dismisses her pride and accepts his concern with gratitude. She is learning, day by day, that whatever they are - the confusing cascade of touches and shared secrets - she loves him. But her children had taught her, better than any other teacher, that there were many types of love. And she does not reach to classify her love for him in the way she had before.
But his muzzle finds the soft places of her neck and he whispers mahal into the gold of her skin she can not help but feel the stirring of a feeling she knows all too well. It is the same feeling he had awoken three years ago when they found each other, as children, alone in his vast newfound kingdom. He had been the first to truly do so. But for three years their passion had not moved beyond hot kisses and midnight confessions. And she knows, that if they ever did cross that line it would be on his terms, not hers.
But he is moving on, denying himself or her - she can not be sure- and she follows where he leads. The surprise in his voice catches her off guard. She turns her face towards him as the words softly fall from his lips. But as she lifts her eyes, like liquid honey, to his, she sees mischief there.
And she smiles.
Always on the move.
"Have you forgotten the last time you took me somewhere? I was the worst diplomat there ever was!" His words had worked their magic and her troubles are forgotten again, for a time. He made her feel like the wild and carefree girl who had first laid eyes on Beqanna three years ago, a girl who was slowly fading away to be replaced by something else.
But tonight, it feels right to be that girl again.
She tries not to miss the tension they difused.