11-17-2019, 01:32 PM
----------------kiss me until i can't speak
Pteron refrains for fear that his bumbling efforts might shatter them, that he might break whatever this breathless, agonizing, glorious thing between them is. To touch him would be to break this, maybe even to push him farther away, and Pteron cannot bear the thought. So he waits, and waits, and waits for contact that never comes.
His fallen heart starts to roll down the mountainside, each moment of nothing a torturous thunk against the cold ice and sharp stone. Aegean doesn’t mean to do this, Pteron reassures himself, no one so perfect as Aegean could ever want to cause pain. And yet there is some part of Pteron that is sure, so incredibly sure, that even if Aegean does it purposefully it is for a good reason. And the reason is good enough for Pteron, even if it leaves him with a bloodless bit of muscle at the bottom of the mountain rather than the heart that had so desperately wanted to be aflame.
Aegean’s eye close then, and Pteron pulls away, unsure how to read this reaction, unsure what he has done to make the sight of himself unbearable. He will fix it, he thinks, he will do anything, and just as he opens his mouth to beg for the chance to correct whatever he has done…the world around them shifts.
It is Aegean, he knows, painting the world around them. The relief that that he had not ruined this after all is nearly sickening in its strength, and Pteron releases a breath that becomes a happy sigh as he looks at the world that Aegean creates.
It is the Silver Cove, just as it was on the day they had met.
Well, almost. There is no orange spotted girl today, and the Aegean in front of him is not the half-grown boy he had been. No, this Aegean is taller, wearing a crown of antlers rather than the adolescent spikes. The boy from the Silver Cove had made Pteron’s heart flutter and this one makes it soar. Soar and crash, but Pteron gathers up the broken bits. Aegean’s words are a balm on the shattered pieces, but Pteron cannot bear to hear them, not when he fears they are said only to soft the rejection. Yet he cannot look away, not from the man surrounded by the cove, from the memory of the day he now recognizes as the moment he gave his heart away. He cannot look away and he cannot hear anymore so he does what he fears might ruin them, and closes the space between them.
This time he does not stop a breath away. This time his mouth crashes against Aegean’s, and there is no elegance in it at all. He tastes like snow and light and magic and everything Pteron had never known he had wanted.
@[aegean]
-- pteron --