the rocks might melt; the sea may burn. || exist

[Canaan]

well, the good ol' days may not return,
and the rocks might melt, and the sea may burn.

  Soon, the speckling of twinkling lights fades away as his hazel eyes begin to adjust to the descending darkness, her delicate features standing out against the wavering tendrils of dried brush. His own sheepish smile remains, twitching at the very corner of his mouth as his warm breath mixes with her own, adding to the heat of the atmosphere that causes beads of sweat to trickle down along his own physique, and for her own dampness to remain supple across her pale apricot skin. Canaan, she breathes his name, as she had done so many times before - many long summer nights had been spent among the starlit skies, between both of them and her sister, too. I know.

   She knows too well.

   Her voice was warm, energized with electricity, and breathless, and he could hardly conceal the amused glint within his shining eyes. The flattened line of her nose presses briefly to his cheek, and the crease of his mouth soon melds into an awkward grin, perhaps even a giddy one. It seems almost juvenile in contrast to the rigid lines of his broadening jaw and the toned muscle that moves effortlessly beneath his pale skin, and it gives away the secret of his youth. The humidity lingers still, entangled in each of their matted tresses, which lay sticky and hot against the broad plane of each of their necks. He follows the gentle line of her jaw with his eyes, along the sinewy muscle of her neck and finally, along the graceful curve of her vivid russet wings.

  His heart hammers within his chest as the ridge of his brow furrows, observing the way the perfect, pristine feathers bristle and shiver against their hollow bones, but soon his bewilderment gives way to awe. Such vivid appendages had never graced her petite physique before, and he could hardly believe his own eyes. Before he is able to form a single word, she utters his name softly again, her dampened forehead pressed firmly against the slope of his own. His nostrils flare, inhaling the fading scent of the salty sea on her wet skin, and she murmurs, something happened to me today.

   "That seems like a bit of an understatement," He says with a rumbling chuckle, incredulous at the sheer energy that surrounds her, of the ruffled feathers that press so firmly against her rounded side. His own feathers begin to bristle as a familiar ache settles into the hollow bones, the longing for flight settling into the very pit of his belly. "When? How?" He begins, but his gold-flecked hazel eyes meet with hers, and his urgent curiosity ebbs away as he observes the way the bubbling, glowing streams of lava simmer and glow within the depths of her emerald gaze. A fire is ignited within her; a fiery glee that is almost contagious. His own heart hammers again within his chest as she whispers to him, run with me. 

   And then she is gone, a fleeting sight of copper and indigo, with long limbs and fluttering wings. A boisterous laugh bursts from his chest as he tosses the length of his neck back, shaking the damp bronze tendrils of hair away from his eyes before launching himself after her. His legs, riddled with iron muscle and raw energy, surge him forward as each beat brings him closer to her. The ground rattles and shakes beneath him, leaving deep imprints into the sifting silt and volcanic ash as his lungs begin to burn from the heat of night, exhilaration and adrenaline both pressing him forward.

   "You know you can never beat me!" His deep voice looms in the heavy air, followed by a breathless laugh as the brunt of his dull teeth gently graces the rounded curve of her hind end. But he would always let her. A mischievous grin reaches the very core of his eyes, which glint with amusement and mirth, as his shoulder is soon aligned with her own. His bristling feathers briefly touch with hers, and with a wayward glance, he observes the sooty chestnut against vibrant copper. Suddenly, a single eye settled on her, "Fly with me, Exist - fly!"

Canaan