Our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow
CREVAN
For one moment (just one eternal second of time,) Crevan feared she would reject him again.
Merida - this beautiful, hauntingly untamed creature - was free to love or hate him as she pleased, and she was adamantly aware of it. Just as no one had the pleasure of loving her before now, so had no one ever been as important to Crevan up until this instant. He was doing everything within his power to push the boundaries of her acceptance because he knew, unquestionably, that his devotion to her was worthy; perhaps even deserving.
They were true equals, but only if she wanted it that way.
In the subtle hush between them, he catches the sound of her swallowing - a thing that makes him feel invincible - and it’s then that he’s able to meet her eyes with a truth she’s always known. A truth that he’s always known, but never understood.
The shifter hardly curbs his enthusiasm at the dark mare’s response, contemptuous as it is. Coming from sultry, raven-black lips and paired with a look straight from hell, the vixen could say much worse and still glean the same rich chuckle from him. To his pleasant surprise, though, Merida is receptive now to the idea of traveling these new paths with him. She says as much without saying anything at all, which is best because Crevan doesn’t exactly possess the type of vocabulary it would take to describe the feeling of her mouth suddenly pressed to his jaw.
Something in the way her once proud lips now shivered … stirred the beast. Like she truly wanted this, and him. It clarified matters instantaneously, stirring up a possessive side that he’d never really been aware of. “That won’t be very long, you know.” Crevan grumbles, leaning into the sensation of her touch. Without warning he pushes closer, drawing the curve of his mouth over to meet her neck and then, he’s unapologetically rubbing the flat line of his face against the lovely, jet-colored arc.
“You love me, don’t you?” He asks again, unwilling to let her or the matter go entirely. He doesn’t mind at all that his nose is buried into the soft dip of her withers, or that the stone-like bust of his chest is brushing against her shoulder; he only wonders if she’ll allow him to do this again, some other time.
Forever, possibly.
@[Merida]
so deep in the feelings