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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [mature]  things we never thought we could be, adna
    #34
    ADNA

    I wish I could take the hands of time and turn them in reverse
    I'd take back every long goodbye with venom in my words

    Does he know the storms that rage through her?

    She is so desperate for contact of any kind and yet his is somehow the worst of all. She isn’t sure that she will survive this—this feeling of him pressed to her, that earth-shaking feeling of him letting her so near. It is intoxicating and poisonous in the same breath, and she wonders at how she’s managed to hold on this long at all. He has said again and again in their time together how worthless he is; he has said that he has nothing to tell her, nothing to share, and yet she finds entire worlds trapped between them.

    She finds that the galaxies spit her out when her heart thunders and races against his own.

    How does he hide all of this beneath the surface, she wonders. How does he continue pretending that he is just a normal wandered with a heart for silence and keeping to himself. How does he hide what she now finds barely beneath the surface—the way that the muscles on his back rope and tighten, the way that his teeth sinks into her hip, the way that his flesh is suddenly on fire and she—she too is set aflame.

    “Beth…” it is the first time that she’s shortened his name and it is mostly by accident, it is mostly because her throat closes around it and she finds that she can’t finish the rest of it. She doesn’t know how to keep breathing when she is trembling in his grasp, when she is coming undone beneath his palm.

    She swallows hard and lets her mouth wander along his back. She traces the constellations on it and tries to find the strength to hold herself together. She tries to remember that she can survive this—survive him.

    “I think I was meant to find you,” she whispers, low enough that maybe he won’t hear it. Maybe it will just be a confession she can make into the dip and curve of him and walk away with it as a secret still.

    The rest of the words die on her tongue and she focuses on the firestorm he sets off in her veins.

    the only way to being found is getting lost at first
    but all I find are more bridges to burn

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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: things we never thought we could be, adna - by adna - 08-18-2019, 10:38 PM



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