03-17-2017, 12:17 AM
we’re on each other’s team…
Hello, Love.
No one else had ever called her that but Ru. Not even Plug, whose body she had bathed in and reveled in during their sordid love affair. She could never get enough of him—and he had been beautiful. Treated her like a Queen—something she had never been. And would never be.
Her ears flick at the sound of the voice that reminded her of aged whisky—smooth, earthy, and intoxicating. He looked at her with a concerned face that looked nothing like Ruan’s. Eyes that were open and kind. She could get drunk on those eyes. And then inwardly chastised herself for such talk. She was still married. Sort of.
Wasn’t she?
And yet, this stranger was beautiful in the way he moved, the pale light cascading off of his profile and highlighting his every muscle. Every hardened carved plane. Every curve. Even in her sadness, she could feel her mouth watering just a little. And she did something she had not done in a long long time. She started saying her prayers once again, clutching her rosary to her chest. Hail Mary.
She sniffs, her nostrils flaring as she turns to him, and straightens her posture to better give him visage of her. She is nondescript. Neither powerful looking, nor imposing in stature. She is small, stocky. Muscular and athletic, and her body shows that to the best advantage. Make a habit of haunting these woods? A breathy laugh escapes her throat mid cry; she cannot help herself.
Dulcet tones emit from her, tears still falling from her eyes as she starts to make the effort to dry her eyes and collect herself. She had had enough pain for one day. Perhaps, just this once, a conversation could end with a smile…rather than tears, a broken heart, and extreme loneliness.
“I guess you could say I haunt them. We…I mean, I, usually come to this part of the forest for a night hunt. Voles, mice rabbits, and the like.” She attempts to smile, looking up at him. Let herself simply forget who she was and be someone else for the night. Someone who was wanted. Someone who was beautiful; trusted.
Someone who was loved.
Another small chuckle as Reagan clutches her rosary beads and continues to spin them furiously, working prayer after prayer. Lord, this man was beautiful. Another small laugh, as she turns away from his face, and settles her sight on the way the moon was cast against the trees. Against her trees. “I am the caretaker of this forest. I am Reagan.”
But in her mind, she could still see the way his body cut across the night, lit up by the moon. Wondering what could happen if she willed the moon to darken its light. Feeling guilty over her husband... and then suddenly not caring. She continues to say her prayers, and turns her green eyes back to the stranger, shutting off her magic, turning off he thunderous beating of Ruan's heart inside her chest.
Father, forgive me...Because I am preparing to sin.
No one else had ever called her that but Ru. Not even Plug, whose body she had bathed in and reveled in during their sordid love affair. She could never get enough of him—and he had been beautiful. Treated her like a Queen—something she had never been. And would never be.
Her ears flick at the sound of the voice that reminded her of aged whisky—smooth, earthy, and intoxicating. He looked at her with a concerned face that looked nothing like Ruan’s. Eyes that were open and kind. She could get drunk on those eyes. And then inwardly chastised herself for such talk. She was still married. Sort of.
Wasn’t she?
And yet, this stranger was beautiful in the way he moved, the pale light cascading off of his profile and highlighting his every muscle. Every hardened carved plane. Every curve. Even in her sadness, she could feel her mouth watering just a little. And she did something she had not done in a long long time. She started saying her prayers once again, clutching her rosary to her chest. Hail Mary.
She sniffs, her nostrils flaring as she turns to him, and straightens her posture to better give him visage of her. She is nondescript. Neither powerful looking, nor imposing in stature. She is small, stocky. Muscular and athletic, and her body shows that to the best advantage. Make a habit of haunting these woods? A breathy laugh escapes her throat mid cry; she cannot help herself.
Dulcet tones emit from her, tears still falling from her eyes as she starts to make the effort to dry her eyes and collect herself. She had had enough pain for one day. Perhaps, just this once, a conversation could end with a smile…rather than tears, a broken heart, and extreme loneliness.
“I guess you could say I haunt them. We…I mean, I, usually come to this part of the forest for a night hunt. Voles, mice rabbits, and the like.” She attempts to smile, looking up at him. Let herself simply forget who she was and be someone else for the night. Someone who was wanted. Someone who was beautiful; trusted.
Someone who was loved.
Another small chuckle as Reagan clutches her rosary beads and continues to spin them furiously, working prayer after prayer. Lord, this man was beautiful. Another small laugh, as she turns away from his face, and settles her sight on the way the moon was cast against the trees. Against her trees. “I am the caretaker of this forest. I am Reagan.”
But in her mind, she could still see the way his body cut across the night, lit up by the moon. Wondering what could happen if she willed the moon to darken its light. Feeling guilty over her husband... and then suddenly not caring. She continues to say her prayers, and turns her green eyes back to the stranger, shutting off her magic, turning off he thunderous beating of Ruan's heart inside her chest.
Father, forgive me...Because I am preparing to sin.