now and then there's a light in the darkness;
feel around 'til you find where your heart went.
She is grace; intricately pieced together with delicate tendrils of stardust and moonlight – and when her vivid eyes bore into his own, and he is altogether breathless. The air catches in his throat, and when her soft, whiskered mouth presses against the hardened line of his cheek, his heart nearly seizes against the iron cage that envelopes it. Her touch is brief, fleeting – but long after it is drawn away, he can still feel the ghost of her breath and the warmth of her mouth against his pallid skin.
A low, rumbling chuckle emerges from the tight confines of his throat, strained as his lips gently brush against her jaw, tasting the sweet, arid sunlight of her skin – and a stirring arises within the pit of his stomach that leaves him wanting, craving for more. The blood within his veins has already begun to simmer – the moment her soft, crooning voice had spoken to him on that summer eve, the fire had been set and the flame had begun to flicker. Ignited now by the coyness of her bright, icy gaze and the faint, impish smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, he is entirely inebriated by her presence, and the slow, carefree smile he wears is too telling.
”Circinae,” he muses, allowing the syllables to settle on his tongue. She is breathtaking, and it is not her physical presence alone that he is taken with. Her laughter, her searing eyes, her prying humor – and now, she is just out of his reach, and he is left desiring more – and the longing builds slowly beneath the surface, leaving his nerve endings alight with insatiable fervor. ”Circinae, have you ever been told that you are a tease?” He murmurs, touching his mouth to her neck, idly traveling the length of it until his teeth trace along her withers, a brushing of faint, nearly imperceptible kisses left in a trail along the ridges of her spine.
The dark, finely preened feathers of his wings brush against her rib cage as he encircles her, teeth drawn back in a blithe grin when he is shoulder to shoulder once again. ”Because you are.”
That adventure we talked of, she utters, and he is already envisioning the roaring waterfall tucked within the thicket, surrounded by pillars of mottled, andesite and lush, vibrant greenery – an oasis hidden away from prying eyes. His heart is pounding again beneath his breast, and for a moment, a flicker of concern emerges (he can only hope that she cannot hear it, thump, thump, thump, inside of his broad chest), but it soon wanes.
You don’t even have to tell me where we’re going, and he can hardly contain his laughter. So coy, and yet, there was nothing coy about her. Her voice lowers an octave, and the mere reverberation of her soft voice near to him affects him in an indiscernible (but entirely pleasant way). The golden rim of his hazel eyes gleam with a mischief that had remained dormant and stifled inside of him since his youth, and with a gentle nudge of his shoulder against her own before drawing himself away between the dense foliage, he says, ”Come with me.”
