Perhaps theirs was not a love to stand the test of time. Perhaps it will crumble beneath the pressure of all the demons that stand screaming at the door. Perhaps one or both will fall beneath the weight of a loves from their past, the pressure of them too much for mortal spines to bear. Perhaps, but she doesn't know. Right now, with his mouth on her and his emotion blossoming so tenderly between them, she doesn’t care. They are the only thing that matters—the only thing that could feasibly ever matter.
Them and their precious child, growing steadily with each passing day.
At his request, she just sighs, the sound impossibly sad in her mouth, because she knows what it is like to fear losing that which you love. She knows what it is like to cling to the sun and watch your fingers crumble as they try to hold onto it. She knows, and she recognizes the fear in his own voice. So she doesn’t rebuff him or dismiss his worries. She just presses her kisses into the hollow of his throat, into the dip of flesh where his mouth begins. “I won’t leave,” she promises, although she has no way of knowing what way the future will unfurl around them, which way they will be rooted or set adrift.
“I’m yours,” she promises again, pressing that into him. “I’m here.”
She sighs again at his promise, but it is a happier noise this time, something about the moment settled so that she ruffles her wings in contentment. She wants to draw this out forever. She wants to sink into it. She wants to forever remember how happy and at peace she is now with the feel of his scaled shoulders against her and the taste of him on her tongue. And she wants to wash the heaviness away.
Taking the smallest steps away, there is a new light in her eyes, a joy she intends to linger in.
“Vulgaris,” his name is sweet on her lips, “would you like to take a swim with me?”
it started with a perfect kiss, then we could feel the poison set in
@[vulgaris]
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