01-02-2016, 06:34 PM
All things are possible, even the worst of things.
For a single, perfect moment, she melts into his embrace, her warmth against his, two pieces of puzzle meant to fit together. But it cannot last. He knows this. Even so, when he feels her stiffen against him, feels her draw away, the urge to pull her back, to crush her against him and never let her go, is nearly overwhelming. Once, such a thought would never have crossed his mind. Once, he had been a kind and selfless man. He is no longer that man.
But, in the end, he lets her go. Just as he had let her go all those long months ago.
She doesn’t leave him though, not really. She is still there, her comforting warmth only inches from him, her luminescent eyes filled with far too much sadness, his name heavy upon her lips. She gazes up at him for long moments. He can only stare back, his eyes filled with too many emotions and his throat seized with too many unsaid words.
And then she is against him again, her delicate frame supported, cradled, by his sturdy strength. Her lips are tracing his shoulder just as his own press into the velvety skin of her withers, warm breath fanning her dark coat. The desperation in her touch matches his, an unwitting echo. The memories rest too heavily upon his mind, ones she knows nothing about. Ones he should not burden her with.
But he is too weak. He has always been too weak, though he is only now realizing it.
She is pulling away from him again, her lips moving softly against him. He leans into her touch, unconsciously savoring every bit of affection she is willing to offer. A drowning man clutching at the tiniest piece of driftwood. But then her touch is gone and his gaze latches upon delicate features shrouded in shadows and secrecy. He wants nothing more than the draw those shadows away, to remove every ounce of pain and uncertainty she is feeling. But alas, these are shadows he has no control over.
So instead he draws the shadows around them, surrounding them in a cocoon of safety and privacy, ensuring that the outside world will not intrude. Ensuring that this delicate moment will not be broken.
Her words cause the breath to leave his lungs, cause his heart to seize in his chest. In that moment, he wishes she had stayed. Wishes they were both still so bright and innocent as they had been when first they had met. Wishes that things had not happened the way they had.
Ilka...
Her name is wreathed in sadness, that single word speaking far more than the hundreds of others he might have said. He leans into her, muzzle pressing softly against her dark neck, cocoa colored eyes falling closed.
Tell me.
He breathes the words softly into her skin, not a demand, but a plea.
But, in the end, he lets her go. Just as he had let her go all those long months ago.
She doesn’t leave him though, not really. She is still there, her comforting warmth only inches from him, her luminescent eyes filled with far too much sadness, his name heavy upon her lips. She gazes up at him for long moments. He can only stare back, his eyes filled with too many emotions and his throat seized with too many unsaid words.
And then she is against him again, her delicate frame supported, cradled, by his sturdy strength. Her lips are tracing his shoulder just as his own press into the velvety skin of her withers, warm breath fanning her dark coat. The desperation in her touch matches his, an unwitting echo. The memories rest too heavily upon his mind, ones she knows nothing about. Ones he should not burden her with.
But he is too weak. He has always been too weak, though he is only now realizing it.
She is pulling away from him again, her lips moving softly against him. He leans into her touch, unconsciously savoring every bit of affection she is willing to offer. A drowning man clutching at the tiniest piece of driftwood. But then her touch is gone and his gaze latches upon delicate features shrouded in shadows and secrecy. He wants nothing more than the draw those shadows away, to remove every ounce of pain and uncertainty she is feeling. But alas, these are shadows he has no control over.
So instead he draws the shadows around them, surrounding them in a cocoon of safety and privacy, ensuring that the outside world will not intrude. Ensuring that this delicate moment will not be broken.
Her words cause the breath to leave his lungs, cause his heart to seize in his chest. In that moment, he wishes she had stayed. Wishes they were both still so bright and innocent as they had been when first they had met. Wishes that things had not happened the way they had.
Ilka...
Her name is wreathed in sadness, that single word speaking far more than the hundreds of others he might have said. He leans into her, muzzle pressing softly against her dark neck, cocoa colored eyes falling closed.
Tell me.
He breathes the words softly into her skin, not a demand, but a plea.
shahrizai
hestoni x scorch