Oftentimes, Lior crossed her mind, but she is too stubborn to let her thoughts roam to what could’ve happened if she had simply let him touch her. She had wanted it. The quickening of her heart told her that, but she was admittedly afraid. Underneath his whiskers, Nayl’s skin trembled with desire, but her disruptive mind forced her away from him. Regret plagued her for days, weeks.
His heavy footsteps echo off the walls of his cave, amplifying the impatience – the want – that lured her to him. She wants to lose herself in the darkness with him, to fall into him after their time apart. Stillwater slips into her thoughts, but it’s fleeting and brief as her fiery eyes blindly search the darkness for the burly stallion. Nayl gingerly crosses the threshold of the cave and takes pause in seeing him materialize from the shadows. There is something different in the way he stares, the way he walks and regards her. A hesitant step guides her sideways in which allows her to see the wings sprouting from his shoulder blades. A lopsided grin tugs at the corner of her mouth both in reaction to seeing his new acquisitions as well as hearing her name slip from his lips. ”Well, someone has been busy.” She doesn’t delve into the how’s and why’s nor does she betray the inkling of jealousy at knowing what freedom lies beyond her reach in the world of clouds.
”Lior,” again, she tastes his name, but her voice is honeyed and no longer searching. He is here, in front of her, and his eyes hungrily take her in like his final meal. There is something between them, lurking, kindled by curiosity. Another step is taken toward him and they meet so closely that she has to check that their skins haven’t met, not yet. But his body heat still races across her, caressing her and tempting her to melt into him. Resisting is difficult, her eyes lifting to meet his as a smile just barely touches his lips. ”Me too,” she murmurs with the waves rolling behind her, reflecting on the long days she had spent away from Nerine – away from him – with only a memory of rejection to clutch.
She expects to be questioned on her efforts, to divulge information that she carries so proudly back home, but Lior is nearly cradling her and their eyes hold steadily – desperately – to one another. What he admits – I’ve missed you – sinks much farther into her than even her walls can prevent. Something inside her crumbles, the anger that she has familiarized herself with deteriorates with those simple words. Her mouth opens then closes as she grasps this moment and eagerly latches onto it, savoring what may be the first true kindness she has ever received. She can hear her heartbeat quicken, but she doesn’t reach forward to touch him. Instead, she looks at him and whispers, ”I’ve missed you too.”
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