05-11-2018, 06:22 PM
the secret of our world is written in the stars
He hadn’t known why she hadn’t come when he had called for her, but he could have never guessed the true reason. Svedka is not one to be easily offended, and merely decided that she hadn’t heard him, or that she had simply been busy. He hadn’t thought for a minute that there could be any other reason. The pale pink of his lips brush the corner of her mouth and only a second goes by before a cold feeling of dread curls damply in his stomach. It is not a feeling that he had felt in years (when the young boy had died accidentally, at Solace’s hand), and it washes over him like ice from the frozen lake.
Don’t!
Her voice is quivering and fearful as she leaps away from him, rearing as if defending herself from him. Her exclamation is enough to shock him into immobility; he is charming and witty, but he understands the meaning of no.
The smile normally strewn across his face has disappeared. Instead, the expression of confusion and shock decorate the two-tones of his handsome face, sincere hurt dimming the bright blue of his normally shining eyes. “Ilma...” he murmurs her name, his voice uncertain for the first time in his life. She distances herself from him and he’s quick to close the gap that she created, his eyes dark beneath the furrow of his brow. “Ilma?” His voice is a question now, confusion mingling into the tenderness of his wavering voice. She’s crying, and he doesn’t know why. What had he done?
Svedka doesn’t attempt to come any closer, tucking his chin towards his chest in defeat. His ears fall limply, his unsure gaze flickering across hers, trying to understand. He wants to hold her, to dry the tears that so freely fall with sweet brushes of his lips against the flawless white of her gentle face, to hush her and soothe her with lullabies from his mother’s ancestral home.
She’s afraid of you.
The stallion swallows hard at the realization, feeling as if his heart is shattering within his chest. Svedka, for the first time in his life, had no idea what to do. All he was sure of is that he wasn’t leaving - he couldn’t.
“I-I’m sorry,” he sputters helplessly, a quick shake of his head signifying his inability to do much else. He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, but nothing else seemed quite right at the moment. He had long forgotten about the blooming flowers he had seen upon the mountain despite the winter’s snow, and how he had wanted to show her. They are unimportant and insignificant compared with the scene unfolding before him. “I’ll fix it,” he begs her quietly, “whatever it is, I’ll fix it.” He rambles stupidly, ears flicking back submissively and his eyes darting from her face to gaze uncertainly at the shimmering snow below him.
Don’t!
Her voice is quivering and fearful as she leaps away from him, rearing as if defending herself from him. Her exclamation is enough to shock him into immobility; he is charming and witty, but he understands the meaning of no.
The smile normally strewn across his face has disappeared. Instead, the expression of confusion and shock decorate the two-tones of his handsome face, sincere hurt dimming the bright blue of his normally shining eyes. “Ilma...” he murmurs her name, his voice uncertain for the first time in his life. She distances herself from him and he’s quick to close the gap that she created, his eyes dark beneath the furrow of his brow. “Ilma?” His voice is a question now, confusion mingling into the tenderness of his wavering voice. She’s crying, and he doesn’t know why. What had he done?
Svedka doesn’t attempt to come any closer, tucking his chin towards his chest in defeat. His ears fall limply, his unsure gaze flickering across hers, trying to understand. He wants to hold her, to dry the tears that so freely fall with sweet brushes of his lips against the flawless white of her gentle face, to hush her and soothe her with lullabies from his mother’s ancestral home.
She’s afraid of you.
The stallion swallows hard at the realization, feeling as if his heart is shattering within his chest. Svedka, for the first time in his life, had no idea what to do. All he was sure of is that he wasn’t leaving - he couldn’t.
“I-I’m sorry,” he sputters helplessly, a quick shake of his head signifying his inability to do much else. He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, but nothing else seemed quite right at the moment. He had long forgotten about the blooming flowers he had seen upon the mountain despite the winter’s snow, and how he had wanted to show her. They are unimportant and insignificant compared with the scene unfolding before him. “I’ll fix it,” he begs her quietly, “whatever it is, I’ll fix it.” He rambles stupidly, ears flicking back submissively and his eyes darting from her face to gaze uncertainly at the shimmering snow below him.
(be my escape)
Svedka
@[Ilma] all da feels