the good ol' days may not return || exist & leliana

[Canaan]

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

  Anguish seizes his pounding, pulsating heart as the deep, unwavering ache settles into his veins like a heavy, weighted sediment, leaving him feeling overwhelmed and empty in the same agonizing breath. Though there was an underlying sentiment tucked within the shadow of a forced smile (one of elation and bliss to be so tightly intertwined with those he cared for most), he is torn. His marred and mangled heart lay bleeding in the center of it all, with only mere fragments left of what had once been whole.

   And yet, he cannot bring himself to show the regret etched into the hardened line of his tense jaw, or in the taut creases of his hazel eyes, choosing instead to tuck himself within the warmth of their bodies, allowing his mouth to press greedily against the withers of one and the curve of his cheek along the neck of another. It’s n-nothing, Leliana stammers, worry carved into the hollow of her words, but he is all too aware of how easy and effortless the lie is for her. He does not say another word – no, he will not pry – instead pressing the warmth of his whiskered lips against her skin again, willing the wound away from her dark, mottled skin.

   Once more, the length of his muscular frame is pressed flush against each, a blend of vibrant colors colliding beneath the warmth of waning sunlight, and he is submerged within the delicate cerise tresses of one and the rich, copper skin of another. Canaan, a breathless murmur and his heart is caught within his throat. She is curled into him and with the heat of a thousand suns, he is flush with the realization of how flawlessly she nestles against the hard ridges of his broad chest, against the sinewy muscle that lay beneath her cheek.  

   The moment is fleeting, and soon Leliana has pressed her own lips along the forehead of her sister, pushing the tousled forelock that lay over her endless emerald eyes. Stirred from his own ceaseless reverie, he is no longer drowning in the comfort of her touch, instead brought back to the surface of his own reality.

   Quietly, he observes the way Leliana falters – the ridge of her brow line creasing as a flicker of something indiscernible in her eye as she enviously traces the rounded curve of her sister’s distended belly, but it is there and gone again within a single, solitary breath and suddenly he is not certain as to whether he imagined it in its entirety. A shadow of doubt is cast upon him, falling into the hollowed ridges of his weary gaze and along the taut lines of his handsome face – but it, too, falters, when the silence is broken.

   Now they get to exist too, in one breath, and I’m so scared in the next, and he draws her closer to him, tucking his chin against the length of her neck as he envelopes her against his breast, longing to comfort her and to urge such foolish fears into the darkness where they belong. They, his mind echoes, two! A longing he cannot ignore stirs within the enclosure of his own chest (“It should have been me,” a voice inside of him laments, but he buries it deep within – there is no use pining for what can never be).

   What if I can’t do this, she breathes, what if I’m not - but he cannot take any more, moving back to trace the distress outlining her soft, gentle features, pressing the flattest part of his nose against her cheek. ”You can do this – you are not alone,” he utters, the syllables of his rough, ragged tone oozing certainty. ”you will never be alone, Exist.”

   His whiskered lips find solace beneath several layers of rich copper locks, while his gaze shadows the movements of her sister, meeting the intricately woven gold and green of her bright, soulful gaze.

   ”We’re here,” and then, ”I’m here.”

   A soft breath pressed against her ear, a murmur – a promise.

   ”I will love them as my own.”

   A heavy confession, one he worries is too much weight for her fragile foundation to bear, and so he finishes, ”and I know that Leli will too.”

Canaan