it's just a little white lie, adna

[adna]

I will commit my soul to your door tonight, and I'll last 'til the gas fumes float on higher

She will never grow tired of this, she thinks, with her cheek against his shoulder, her lips moving to his chest. To the way that she can feel his pulse beneath her mouth and the way that it feels like home. She can barely remember a time before she knew the feel of it so intimately. Before the pulse of it was the background to all of her dreams. Before she set the rhythm of her day to it, learning how to breathe in time with him, keep pace with the very fabric of his being and then frame her life around it.

He holds her close and she thinks that she has never wanted more than this.

Could never want anything other than this.

She just smiles as she closes her eyes and relishes the feeling of him around her—the weight of his skull against her spine and the heat of his body against the cool scales of her own. That vibrant feel of life.

“I don’t think you and I will ever learn the right way to do anything,” she laughs, her voice light enough that it could not be mistaken for anything but a joke—anything but the humor that she laces it with. “But we will learn how to do it our way, and I think that matters for as much as anything.” She presses a kiss to him again, letting her mouth linger on the warmth of his hide, that miraculous feel of him there with her.

“I am sorry that we keep taking so long to find one another.”

This, whispered quieter into him.

“But I am home now.”

in a dying love I'm nothing but a stone cold liar but, oh, I got an iron in that fire

Adna