Rapture
somewhere between the sand and the stardust
She is the picture of serenity, the blue and white mare standing against the current, haloed by sunshine. But her mind and heart are far from serene. With her pale blue eyes closed against the sun, she doesn't see his approach. Doesn't see him falter in the river’s bank. The very one who so often has her thoughts in such disarray. It isn't until she hears her name uttered in that rough, familiar cadence that she realizes she is not alone.
For a moment, she can almost believe she is dreaming. That her fevered mind had produced her imaginings, projecting them upon the shore to remind her of her aching heart.
But as her eyes open slowly, focusing upon the figure on the shore, she knows the truth and her heart leaps inside her chest. He is there, gaze fixed upon her as though he is a dying man and she the cure. For a moment, she almost forgets how to breath, longing freezing her lungs and blanking her overwrought mind.
As breath comes back to her in a rush, she finds herself drawn to the shore, unable to resist that magnetic pull that seems to hover between them. Water sluices from her skin, a cascade of glittering droplets in the bright light of the day.
When she has nearly reached the shore, she halts abruptly, pale gaze fixed upon his masculine features. They have both changed since last they'd met. His once dark locks now flicker with flame, a few scars to add to his collection. She had not been altered quite so greatly, but her slim, lanky figure has filled out, becoming distinctly more feminine. The disquiet in his eyes is still the same though, still calling to her as it once had.
For an agonizing moment, she is tempted to press against him, to feel the heat of his skin against the coolness of her own. A shiver runs across her chilled flesh at the thought, but she is not certain if he would actually welcome her touch. She is not certain if she should touch him anyway. She might never find the strength of will to pull away if she did.
She can almost feel his troubled thoughts in the intensity of his stare. And in that moment, the only thing she can think to say, a soft exhalation that trembles past her lips, is “I'm sorry.”
there is a pulse that echoes of you and I
