[private] putting roots in my dreamland

[isakov]

throw me in the water, don’t think about the splash i will create
leave me at the altar, knowing all the things you just escaped

It is seamless, spectacular. He has never seen anything like it.
And, although she had wedged some space between them, he cannot help but take a few steps backward in surprise, his gold eyes wide with wonder.

Could he have guessed at how wonderful it would be?
He had adored his dear friend before this, certainly, but he can physically feel his adoration for her deepen as he takes a cautious step toward her in this new form. As if he is not certain that she will be the same Avelina, though the eyes are still the same pale green. Though she laughs and it is still the same sweet sound, she speaks and it still sounds like poetry.

He tilts his star-strewn head and smiles something lopsided as he tentatively reaches for her, touches her fine head so gently that he barely touches her at all. Exhales the softest breath he can manage before he draws away again, afraid that he might harm her. He has so little experience with birds and the long, sleek neck looks so fragile.

“I think it suits you perfectly,” he murmurs, smiling still. It is a beautiful creature, though he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to say this. (Strange, he thinks, that he should wonder these things.)

It is then that he notices the evidence of the trouble she’d encountered and his brow immediately darkens. His pulse quickens and his nostrils flare. He reaches for her again but does not touch her, stops himself short and swallows thickly. “Who hurt you?” he asks, uncertain what he’ll do with the information should she feel comfortable enough to provide it.

isakov

@[Avelina]