And inside you're burning
with some secret yearing
There is an edge to him, something impossible to define but with a subtly persistent presence nonetheless. It’s that which intrigues her, the possibility of something hidden just beneath the surface. He might be a collector, but she is an avid curator. What she desires is far less tangible however, and so much more difficult to describe, much less to attain.
He stirs her curiosity though. And that, in and of itself, is worth exploring. Perhaps it would come to nothing. But then, it could also come to so much more. That is the true beauty of these things.
Her silvery gaze focuses once more, the longing fading into a clear-eyed brightness with a faintly inscrutable edge. She admires his beauty anew, caught once more in it’s lovely starlit glow. The faint desire to touch (with skin and not just ephemeral light) stirs within her, but she refrains. Time enough for that later, she thinks.
But she does step deeper into the water, until the midnight liquid traces cool, wet fingers along her knees. The subtle shifting of his aura tells a story of it’s own, lulling her, drawing her nearer. “Ivar,” she repeats in a whisper, the syllables curling almost delicately on her tongue as a faint smile curves her lips once more. “No more than you live here.”
It would be an awkward place to live, she thinks. So busy, too many that pass through. Just as she had been doing. “I don’t have a home,” she finally answers softly, without longing or regret.
She had never needed one, truth be told. She had always gone where she would, following only her wayward feet and the slow, subtle shift of the night sky. It is freeing, in a way, to never have to worry about a single stretch of land. To know that anywhere she comes to rest might be her home for the night.
Most don’t understand. Perhaps he would, though she rather doubts it. And so she falls silent, eyes curious as they fix upon him.
Lirren