06-26-2017, 11:57 AM
the night is my companion, and solitude my guide.
She is overwhelmed, but not in a way that she felt consumed. She felt completely full, no longer empty and lost. Her heart swells with joy, however unsure her thoughts made her. It is too good to be true, it must only be a dream, but she would not question such a blessing that has come to her. She fears the emptiness that she once felt, afraid that with the shadows absence that she would return to her plainness, her simplicity. It (he?) makes her feel powerful and wanted, needed and longed for – a feeling she craved without ever knowing she craved it. The love of her family, however true and pure, was nothing compared to what the love of the shadow being would give her. She now actively seeks its (his?) approval, to convince it that staying with her would be the only way she could continue forward.
Choose me. Love me.
Her thoughts drive her actions, carefully learning the shadow’s position above her, leaning in to its touch against her silvered skin. Her eyes flutter closed as it assures her, we are whole. It remembers her, she thinks. The way the shadow presses into her, leaving hot kisses against her in longing, their reunion so very long overdue. She inhales deeply, the scent of the pines and masculinity enriching her further. A shadow prince has come to her, longs for her, chose her. Her skin pricks as he lowers himself to her, his warmth and strength sending her heart pounding heavily against the small of her chest. Wrapped within his shadows, she is safe and protected, loved.
His voice speaks to her again, warm with desire against her skin – a voice that would never hurt her.
As she exhales, slow and soft, he is gone.
“No,” she whispers back, her eyes opening and their silver irises searching the empty space around her, brows falling as she reaches out, frightened that something had taken him from her, or that he must leave her. She holds her breath, which exhales heavily when she feels the slightest bit of velvet against her cheek, caressing her lovingly. She presses her head into the touch, resting her weight there, eyes softening with relief and tenderness. “You are not meant to be commanded anymore, Shadow.” She murmurs into the silkiness of what was his wing, her breath warm on the invisible feathers.
He beckons her and she obliges, putting her slender legs beneath her and rises gracefully, delicately. With his touch against her she is able to step forward with confidence, silver eyes still searching for a being she knew she might not ever be able to see.
The sound of crickets chirping fills the silence as she comes to him, wanting and needing his embrace to hold her so soundly. “Does my shadow have a name?”
She does not command him anymore, she should not name him.
Choose me. Love me.
Her thoughts drive her actions, carefully learning the shadow’s position above her, leaning in to its touch against her silvered skin. Her eyes flutter closed as it assures her, we are whole. It remembers her, she thinks. The way the shadow presses into her, leaving hot kisses against her in longing, their reunion so very long overdue. She inhales deeply, the scent of the pines and masculinity enriching her further. A shadow prince has come to her, longs for her, chose her. Her skin pricks as he lowers himself to her, his warmth and strength sending her heart pounding heavily against the small of her chest. Wrapped within his shadows, she is safe and protected, loved.
His voice speaks to her again, warm with desire against her skin – a voice that would never hurt her.
As she exhales, slow and soft, he is gone.
“No,” she whispers back, her eyes opening and their silver irises searching the empty space around her, brows falling as she reaches out, frightened that something had taken him from her, or that he must leave her. She holds her breath, which exhales heavily when she feels the slightest bit of velvet against her cheek, caressing her lovingly. She presses her head into the touch, resting her weight there, eyes softening with relief and tenderness. “You are not meant to be commanded anymore, Shadow.” She murmurs into the silkiness of what was his wing, her breath warm on the invisible feathers.
He beckons her and she obliges, putting her slender legs beneath her and rises gracefully, delicately. With his touch against her she is able to step forward with confidence, silver eyes still searching for a being she knew she might not ever be able to see.
The sound of crickets chirping fills the silence as she comes to him, wanting and needing his embrace to hold her so soundly. “Does my shadow have a name?”
She does not command him anymore, she should not name him.
@[Nier]