11-08-2019, 09:28 PM
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
It’s so easy to talk to her and savor her company. Their dynamic is electrifying, somehow even addictive. When she left, even for such a short time, he found himself mindlessly searching for her. It wasn’t an open or obvious sift across Loess; it was an occasional flicker of his eyes to observe her soar, an acute twist of his ear to hear her voice.
But in the end, there was nothing. He felt her absence. It was cold against his side where she had once stood, even if their skin never touched.
In the short time they’ve known each other, a magnetism has developed that he cannot deny or resist. Perhaps that is what helps him to realize that she is returning home. There’s a twinge in his gut, a flutter in his soul, that grabs his mind and halts his every thought except for one: Oceane is home.
The scent of the ocean clings tightly to her skin, and he can nearly taste the brine when he draws in a deep breath. He is familiar with the islands, and so by the time she arrives adjacent to him, he is aware of where she has been without asking. A coy grin boyishly curves his lips when his head tilts to meet her playful eyes. ”I hope not,” he retorts with light-hearted humor, his opinion on the stallion still pending and teetering back and forth. The uncertainty was seemingly transparent enough for Oceane to take note and feed it into a joke that he undeniably enjoys. With their lighthearted humor, however, there is also a softness that he takes careful note of, his grin as warm as the fire stirring in his gut. ”The work never ends, I’m afraid,” an idle stretch of his body punctuates the statement, but also eases him into further relaxation as her body heat reaches toward him like fingers.
”But you finally have me now,” he doesn’t realize the implication of the statement, at least, not at first. It hangs between them, idle, until he corrects himself, his tone remaining steady. ”How was the Resort? I hope Blue enjoys it,” perhaps it’s better to deviate and steer from the intimate jest that he accidentally let slip.
But in the end, there was nothing. He felt her absence. It was cold against his side where she had once stood, even if their skin never touched.
In the short time they’ve known each other, a magnetism has developed that he cannot deny or resist. Perhaps that is what helps him to realize that she is returning home. There’s a twinge in his gut, a flutter in his soul, that grabs his mind and halts his every thought except for one: Oceane is home.
The scent of the ocean clings tightly to her skin, and he can nearly taste the brine when he draws in a deep breath. He is familiar with the islands, and so by the time she arrives adjacent to him, he is aware of where she has been without asking. A coy grin boyishly curves his lips when his head tilts to meet her playful eyes. ”I hope not,” he retorts with light-hearted humor, his opinion on the stallion still pending and teetering back and forth. The uncertainty was seemingly transparent enough for Oceane to take note and feed it into a joke that he undeniably enjoys. With their lighthearted humor, however, there is also a softness that he takes careful note of, his grin as warm as the fire stirring in his gut. ”The work never ends, I’m afraid,” an idle stretch of his body punctuates the statement, but also eases him into further relaxation as her body heat reaches toward him like fingers.
”But you finally have me now,” he doesn’t realize the implication of the statement, at least, not at first. It hangs between them, idle, until he corrects himself, his tone remaining steady. ”How was the Resort? I hope Blue enjoys it,” perhaps it’s better to deviate and steer from the intimate jest that he accidentally let slip.
castile
@[Oceane]