11-14-2017, 02:51 PM
Don't say I'm out of touch with this rampant chaos; your reality.
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge.
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge.
”And just like that, you’ve ruined the moment,” she exhales, though there is a glimmer of mischief hidden away within the gold lacing of her hazel eye as she quietly traces the sharp angle of his jaw before brushing the softness of her lips across it again. Her lashes close for a moment, caressing his cheek, while a low hum of satisfaction is pressed against the darkness of his skin. Her lips do not stop until placed in the crease of his neck, feeling his pulse slowly thrum to a steady rhythm, not unlike her own. Her breath still emerges in soft puffs across the column of his neck, bathing in the afterglow – lost to him, lost to the pale moonlight and the celestial sky overhead, beckoning her to be among the stars – but she does not.
He is all the starlight that she desires, in the darkening descent of evenfall – her restless and tireless mind at ease, if only for a moment, while her pale lips trace the outline of the distant shoreline across the broadness of his shoulder. Contentedly, her teeth pry and pluck bramble and brush from the dark entanglement strewn haphazardly across his neck, tasting the saltiness of perspiration trickling still down the length of his body. His question is heavy on her mind. She does not ignore it, but she does not answer him, either – at least not right away. Her cheek brushes along the rigid curve of his rib cage, feeling the way his breath and heartbeat surge with life beneath the obscure blackness of his skin.
”No one would accuse me of having decorum,” she muses softly, her gaze averted from his own, searching the churning, ravenous tide instead – wondering how it might feel against her dampened skin; how it might feel between each bristled feather. ”but I have spent .. so much time biting my tongue when I should not. Not saying what I should, when I should.” She breathes along the hollow of his hip, before resting her cheek across his lower back. ”I thought .. I might never see Smoak again; that I might never see Joplin, or Joaquin ..” (bittersweet, each name is across her tongue) ”I almost lost everything.”
And even more quietly,
”I almost lost you.”
A breath, slow and sullen, expands the empty void of her lungs.
”Whatever this is, whatever we are – it is what it is,” and then she is bristling again, recoiling, as she always had. It takes several moments of careful consideration before she can force her guard down again, before she can say what is on her mind, and when she does, she awaits the vivacity of his cerulean gaze, meeting with her own before speaking again. ”whatever this is, it makes me happy, and it’s enough for me.”
He is all the starlight that she desires, in the darkening descent of evenfall – her restless and tireless mind at ease, if only for a moment, while her pale lips trace the outline of the distant shoreline across the broadness of his shoulder. Contentedly, her teeth pry and pluck bramble and brush from the dark entanglement strewn haphazardly across his neck, tasting the saltiness of perspiration trickling still down the length of his body. His question is heavy on her mind. She does not ignore it, but she does not answer him, either – at least not right away. Her cheek brushes along the rigid curve of his rib cage, feeling the way his breath and heartbeat surge with life beneath the obscure blackness of his skin.
”No one would accuse me of having decorum,” she muses softly, her gaze averted from his own, searching the churning, ravenous tide instead – wondering how it might feel against her dampened skin; how it might feel between each bristled feather. ”but I have spent .. so much time biting my tongue when I should not. Not saying what I should, when I should.” She breathes along the hollow of his hip, before resting her cheek across his lower back. ”I thought .. I might never see Smoak again; that I might never see Joplin, or Joaquin ..” (bittersweet, each name is across her tongue) ”I almost lost everything.”
And even more quietly,
”I almost lost you.”
A breath, slow and sullen, expands the empty void of her lungs.
”Whatever this is, whatever we are – it is what it is,” and then she is bristling again, recoiling, as she always had. It takes several moments of careful consideration before she can force her guard down again, before she can say what is on her mind, and when she does, she awaits the vivacity of his cerulean gaze, meeting with her own before speaking again. ”whatever this is, it makes me happy, and it’s enough for me.”
Ellyse
(The nightmare) I built my own world to escape
@[Dahmer]