09-03-2016, 04:35 PM
loving you isn't the right thing to do; how can I ever change things that I feel?
The weight of uncertainty weighed heavily upon her as well; the world had become so tumultuous and it seemed that the war-torn existence she had been forced to endure even at birth would live on. Each and every time the dying embers of violence, greed and lust began to simmer and falter beneath the gentle caress of time, something would stoke the flames into a furious fire, engulfing everything and everyone within its unruly, unpredictable path. Though she had yet to know a life without it, it still feels stagnant - an insufferable, sulfur-drenched intoxication of power and consequence. Her heart longed for serenity, but the fierce warrior that so often stirred within her craved the ferocity of war, and so she remains, trapped in between two better parts of her wretched heart.
Such bittersweet thoughts seem to fade away as she presses close to him, inhaling his natural musk and the acrid, dried sweat that lingers along the nape of his slender neck. She cannot delve into it too long, for soon his whiskered lips brush against her jaw and down along the length of her own neck - she curls into him, savoring the comfort of his touch and the warmth of his breath - a reminder that life thrives once more, that existence is more than simply standing idle. Finally, her lashes draw up from her hazel eyes, which are so usually alight with a flickering flame of mischief and self-assurance - now falter with doubt and vexation.
Studying the hardened lines of his mouth, she gently presses her cheek to his for a long moment, ignoring the gentle voice within her that warns her to move away, to resist the temptation of his allure. He is enigmatic, but she cannot allow herself to settle too deeply into his comfort, she cannot permit herself to let her guard fall too close to the ground below - but for now - just for now.
Her breath catches in her throat, a hitch that interrupts her own voice as she trembles so suddenly against his iron-clad body, leaning against him needily. She has ignored the pangs of pain for too long - (she had known, when the immense waves of anguish began to pull away at her sanity like the salty ocean tide to the bay, that her time had come) - eager for resolution, desperate for solace. Yet now the rippling pain that echoes through every frayed nerve within her gilded body nearly cripples her. His words nearly fall on deaf ears, but she presses through the shuddering torment, catching a word here and there (should, looking, them?) but a low, gutteral groan escapes her where words might have lain.
"Magnus, I - I must lay down; I must."
She begins to press forward, to push her shaking legs beyond the moist soil she has become rooted on beside him, but her limbs falter and with the last remnants of strength, her legs fold beneath her and soon she is Earth-bound.
Her pride provokes hot tears of shame, of frustration from her hazel eyes, which look up apologetically to him as another contraction rattles through her exhausted body from the tips of her nostrils to the very edges of her bristling feathers.
"I'm so sorry," She murmurs, her tone laced with the humiliation of her own weakness.
Such bittersweet thoughts seem to fade away as she presses close to him, inhaling his natural musk and the acrid, dried sweat that lingers along the nape of his slender neck. She cannot delve into it too long, for soon his whiskered lips brush against her jaw and down along the length of her own neck - she curls into him, savoring the comfort of his touch and the warmth of his breath - a reminder that life thrives once more, that existence is more than simply standing idle. Finally, her lashes draw up from her hazel eyes, which are so usually alight with a flickering flame of mischief and self-assurance - now falter with doubt and vexation.
Studying the hardened lines of his mouth, she gently presses her cheek to his for a long moment, ignoring the gentle voice within her that warns her to move away, to resist the temptation of his allure. He is enigmatic, but she cannot allow herself to settle too deeply into his comfort, she cannot permit herself to let her guard fall too close to the ground below - but for now - just for now.
Her breath catches in her throat, a hitch that interrupts her own voice as she trembles so suddenly against his iron-clad body, leaning against him needily. She has ignored the pangs of pain for too long - (she had known, when the immense waves of anguish began to pull away at her sanity like the salty ocean tide to the bay, that her time had come) - eager for resolution, desperate for solace. Yet now the rippling pain that echoes through every frayed nerve within her gilded body nearly cripples her. His words nearly fall on deaf ears, but she presses through the shuddering torment, catching a word here and there (should, looking, them?) but a low, gutteral groan escapes her where words might have lain.
"Magnus, I - I must lay down; I must."
She begins to press forward, to push her shaking legs beyond the moist soil she has become rooted on beside him, but her limbs falter and with the last remnants of strength, her legs fold beneath her and soon she is Earth-bound.
Her pride provokes hot tears of shame, of frustration from her hazel eyes, which look up apologetically to him as another contraction rattles through her exhausted body from the tips of her nostrils to the very edges of her bristling feathers.
"I'm so sorry," She murmurs, her tone laced with the humiliation of her own weakness.
Ellyse