01-21-2019, 04:31 PM
Ophanim
He watches her wandering approach, head tucked down in though and drenched in the rain, but he doesn’t move to avoid her or say anything to get her attention. He just waits patiently until her skin nearly collides into his. When she finally meets his gaze, he is still smiling and the world is content to continue spinning on its lazy axis. Ophanim extends a wing over her to shield her from the raindrops and offers a brief shrug of his pale white shoulders when she says she didn’t see him. Maybe she meant it as an apology or just a statement to fill the silence.
The droplets run down the scales of his wings and drop off the tiny claws at the end of each section. He’s not used to this appearance just yet but his eyes roam across Adna curiously, admiring her own skin and finding it lovely. Maybe being a little reptilian isn’t so bad if someone can look as beautiful as her. His bright blue eyes finally return to her face and he tilts his head, trying to figure out if she’s crying or if the weather just turns her into a sad portrait of herself. He reaches out and gently bumps his nose to her cheek as though to reassure her.
“My name is Ophanim,” he says, still smiling like the summer. The golden lines painted down his cheeks make the expression look bittersweet despite the kindness in his eyes. “Do you normally wander around staring at your feet?”
Here he laughs, a sound like delicate fingers expertly plucking the strings of a harp. The sun briefly peeks through a part in the clouds as though summoned by the angel’s laughter, painting them both a hazy golden-orange color. There is something serious behind his eyes once he grows silent, however, and he watches her closely to pick apart her answer. He’s learned to speak more through body language than words after realizing how little Starsin said with her lips. Ophanim edges closer, letting their sides briefly graze against one another each time they breathe.
The droplets run down the scales of his wings and drop off the tiny claws at the end of each section. He’s not used to this appearance just yet but his eyes roam across Adna curiously, admiring her own skin and finding it lovely. Maybe being a little reptilian isn’t so bad if someone can look as beautiful as her. His bright blue eyes finally return to her face and he tilts his head, trying to figure out if she’s crying or if the weather just turns her into a sad portrait of herself. He reaches out and gently bumps his nose to her cheek as though to reassure her.
“My name is Ophanim,” he says, still smiling like the summer. The golden lines painted down his cheeks make the expression look bittersweet despite the kindness in his eyes. “Do you normally wander around staring at your feet?”
Here he laughs, a sound like delicate fingers expertly plucking the strings of a harp. The sun briefly peeks through a part in the clouds as though summoned by the angel’s laughter, painting them both a hazy golden-orange color. There is something serious behind his eyes once he grows silent, however, and he watches her closely to pick apart her answer. He’s learned to speak more through body language than words after realizing how little Starsin said with her lips. Ophanim edges closer, letting their sides briefly graze against one another each time they breathe.