08-23-2015, 05:33 PM
| your mouth is poison; your mouth is wine (you think your dreams are the same as mine) She does not expect his attention, not when he shone so brightly and she so dimly, so she is caught off guard when she looks up and realizes that the voice was his. It takes her a second to respond, to do anything other than stare up with her wide, pink eyes, and she just takes a deep, rattling breath. Finally, she composes herself, drawing her head up so that she could stare him in the eye. “N-Nothing happened to me,” she finally murmurs in her breathy voice, the sound as unsubstantial as the material of her wings. Glancing back at the sheer, torn edges of them, she pulls them tighter. There they served to blur out the pink and chestnut of her sides where muscle peeked through her nearly translucent flesh. She had never felt so vulnerable—and she was not sure why. After all, he had been nothing but handsome and kind so far. So she forced herself to shake it off, telling herself that she was being silly for even thinking it. “I have always been like this,” she finally says with an attempt at a smile. Hoping to remove the attention from herself, she noted her head toward his own wings. “Yours are beautiful,” a soft sigh that is laced with jealousy—they were so vibrant and strong. “And your color is…” her voice trails off as she realizes her obvious admiration and if she could blush, she would. Instead, she draws her head close to her chest and looks toward the ground, embarrassed into silence and wishing herself anywhere but here. |