10-22-2018, 11:07 PM
I kept my hope just like i'd hoped tothen sang to the sea for feelings deep blue
To be the prince of nothing with her feels more extraordinary than any regular princehood ever would be; in these moments, as her skin touches his and as the ground flies for them, Rhae thinks that maybe his true inheritance is the moon, or the stars, and not a kingdom and its people. With the nameless girl by his side, he rules the expanses of both the sky and the earth, a King of his own realm with the Queen born to it by his side.
Her lips find his jaw, her breast leaning into his with an intensity he hadn't anticipated (though perhaps he should have expected everything and anything from the secretive girl). He leans in too, caught by her gravity, pulled to her as naturally as the ocean is pulled to the tectonic plates, as the world is pulled to the sun, as the universe is pulled to a black hole. He leans, and he finds that he does not want to run any more.
Careful or I will ask for your heart.
Before she can pull away, his teeth gently find purchase on the flesh of her neck and the tangle of her baby locks. "You assume I haven't already given it." And it feels true, more true than any other word he's uttered or thought he's held secret; he does not know her name but that doesn't bother him, there's something inside of her that lends itself to his nature. He wonders what secrets she has, but finds that the mystery of living without them creates a tension unlike any he's experienced. He wants her, in a youthful and needy way, in a way that spoke to his need for wonder above all else. She embodied wonder in a way he could not verbalize; she stole his heart as a one might pluck a berry, from the stem without effort or mistrials.
Ripe and vulnerable, it sits in her young hands, its thrum a testament to the way that she makes him feel.
And in a rush of catatonia, the youths burst forth into the night with the light of the stars above them and a sea of possibility ahead. It feels euphoric and calming at once, the kind of coursing electricity that thrums with vivacity and sensuality, neither of which he fully understands in his young age. As they cavort and laugh and run far past breathless, he finds himself glad that he is not a dreamer: for why would one dream when reality holds the true treasures?
Why submit to the comfortable, when you could dance with the moon?
Her lips find his jaw, her breast leaning into his with an intensity he hadn't anticipated (though perhaps he should have expected everything and anything from the secretive girl). He leans in too, caught by her gravity, pulled to her as naturally as the ocean is pulled to the tectonic plates, as the world is pulled to the sun, as the universe is pulled to a black hole. He leans, and he finds that he does not want to run any more.
Careful or I will ask for your heart.
Before she can pull away, his teeth gently find purchase on the flesh of her neck and the tangle of her baby locks. "You assume I haven't already given it." And it feels true, more true than any other word he's uttered or thought he's held secret; he does not know her name but that doesn't bother him, there's something inside of her that lends itself to his nature. He wonders what secrets she has, but finds that the mystery of living without them creates a tension unlike any he's experienced. He wants her, in a youthful and needy way, in a way that spoke to his need for wonder above all else. She embodied wonder in a way he could not verbalize; she stole his heart as a one might pluck a berry, from the stem without effort or mistrials.
Ripe and vulnerable, it sits in her young hands, its thrum a testament to the way that she makes him feel.
And in a rush of catatonia, the youths burst forth into the night with the light of the stars above them and a sea of possibility ahead. It feels euphoric and calming at once, the kind of coursing electricity that thrums with vivacity and sensuality, neither of which he fully understands in his young age. As they cavort and laugh and run far past breathless, he finds himself glad that he is not a dreamer: for why would one dream when reality holds the true treasures?
Why submit to the comfortable, when you could dance with the moon?
Rhaegor
@[Ivy]
![[Image: rhae]](https://66.media.tumblr.com/c013fae479a9e0c775688ff921306b4e/tumblr_pivbqpgHuG1xsr748o1_250.png)