[mature] you're all I want, so bring me the dawn; isle

[magnus]

but she's bringin' the moon and stars to me -

She is an immediate balm to his worried soul.

He holds her close and she presses her lips to the flesh of his chin, his jaw, his mouth. She knows the rhythms of his heart—the very pulse of him—and he does not need to say the things that he does. She already knows. She always knows. It loosens the knot in his chest so that he can breathe easier. Before he even knows what is happening, she is there and he can finally relax into her. She undoes him.

He doesn’t say anything as she lets the flutter of her hands smooth out the edges of his worry and in her gentle grasp, they don’t feel such a terrifying thing at all. He would place it all within her palm, would trust her to never crush the edges of them—to never bruise. He would trust her with it all.

When she does finally make the decision, his face glows like the sunrise.

“That’s all I want,” he says, pressing his forehead into her, giving a quick twist of his head to catch the velvet of skin next to her mouth and exhaling. “All I want is to know as many sunrises by your side as I can. I want to watch our children grow. I want to learn the twists and turns of your heart. I want time.” He leans back only so that he can catch her gaze—only so that he can study the wild depths of them.

“I want knowing more than to tie my life to yours.”

Then the thunder breaks and his face grows warm, the tense lines softening in the glow of her. “How did I ever get so lucky, Isle?” Finally. Finally, he has found a love that will last—something he can trust—and it is within the oceanic heart of the woman before him, in the wind valleys of her soul.

- Magnus