05-15-2017, 04:42 PM
i'm not going to change, so stay out of my way.
i don't need you to understand that i'm already saved.
Perhaps it is that she can see him –
She can see the darkness etched within the creased lines that delicately cradle his brooding gaze; she can see the weariness carved into the iron grip of his jaw bone, and the fatigue settled between his rigid shoulder blades.
She can see the very edges of him, broken and jagged, frayed at the ends –
Yet, there is nothing broken about him at all – his warm breath across her cheek, with unspoken words pressed against the pallid gleam of her dampened skin, and his eyes, filled with a storm of emotion; a tempest of longing she herself knew all too well. He is fragile, but not broken.
Her whiskered lips press again to his jaw, tasting the salty brine of the sea again on his skin, and for a long moment, she lingers there – feeling his pulse hot and rhythmic beneath its dark amber covering. She can very nearly feel his heart beating in time with her own. There is an undeniable draw to him, for he is everything that she is not, and everything that she will never be. Stoic, yet gentle – kindness, embedded into the very marrow of his bones, and an insufferable craving she has to be nearer to such light in an otherwise dark and dismal existence has bloomed within the pit of her rolling belly.
As her hazel gaze searches the hazy horizon and its dark, blossoming clouds, a deep rumble reverberates through the wet, densely packed sand, crawling up along her long, languid limbs and reaching her core. Thunder, and with it, the dreary sky would soon be alight with electricity – being so near to the water was foolish, and yet the nerves lining the hollow bones of her wings tingle with anticipation and enthrallment. What was life without risk, after all?
And then his lips are upon her, along the crevice where her rounded cheek meets with the slender length of her neck, and a shiver courses through her taut muscles and down along her rigid spine – and guilt is suddenly growing from a gentle pang to a painful clench, seizing her pounding heart and reminding her too well of the dangerous line laying before her. She had deliberately stepped over the unseen boundary, drawing him nearer to her, comforting him in the dark and grim daylight –
And yet, there is something decidedly intimate about the way his lips touch her cheek, his breath hot and sweet across her skin. As an intimacy she had not felt in so long, it soothed a wildness inside of her, while stirring something altogether monstrous looming in the shadows of her broken heart.
Friendship? she wonders to herself, knowing very little about the social construct (the only true companion she had ever had had quickly become her lover) but knowing deep down she was crossing the line. But there is something about the way his soft murmuring of words along her cheek touches something deep within her, touches something she had thought was long gone and dead, that urges her away from his gentle touch.
He deserved better; he needed more – he needed her strength, her resolve, her trust and respect.
It was selfish of her to seek comfort in him, when he was so vulnerable –
You are a force to be reckoned with, he says, and she cannot conceal a half-amused snort.
”Oh, you have no idea, Warrick,” and then, the guilt is tucked away within the shadow of an otherwise impish gleam in her bright eyes. ”You wouldn’t want to get on my bad side. Though, admittedly, I cannot see how you could – you’re perfect,” she muses with a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
And as his lips press against her muzzle once more, he murmurs to her, and a frigidity slowly envelopes her heart, filling in the void that had become a gaping wound in the wake of Magnus’ absence with ice.
”It is a pleasant thought, but a lie – a lie I cannot tell myself.” The humor gone, and in its place, a grimace – a deep frown in place of the roguish smile she had worn mere moments before. ”Magnus was - is a good man – a good friend, a better father – but I would be foolish to think he loved me, even for a minute.” Her eyes do not meet his – the truth is too painful, and so she chooses instead to lose herself in the rumbling discontent of the sea. ”Not the way that I loved him.”
A sigh, weary and worn, and then, ”Whatever it is that is weighing you down, Warrick ..” a breathless pause, the depth of her deep, gold-flecked hazel eyes searching the endless sea of his own, fluttering between each eye to see beyond the façade concealing its darkness. ”do not let it consume you, as it did him. Time stops for no one – do not let it get in the way of your happiness.”
She can see the darkness etched within the creased lines that delicately cradle his brooding gaze; she can see the weariness carved into the iron grip of his jaw bone, and the fatigue settled between his rigid shoulder blades.
She can see the very edges of him, broken and jagged, frayed at the ends –
Yet, there is nothing broken about him at all – his warm breath across her cheek, with unspoken words pressed against the pallid gleam of her dampened skin, and his eyes, filled with a storm of emotion; a tempest of longing she herself knew all too well. He is fragile, but not broken.
Her whiskered lips press again to his jaw, tasting the salty brine of the sea again on his skin, and for a long moment, she lingers there – feeling his pulse hot and rhythmic beneath its dark amber covering. She can very nearly feel his heart beating in time with her own. There is an undeniable draw to him, for he is everything that she is not, and everything that she will never be. Stoic, yet gentle – kindness, embedded into the very marrow of his bones, and an insufferable craving she has to be nearer to such light in an otherwise dark and dismal existence has bloomed within the pit of her rolling belly.
As her hazel gaze searches the hazy horizon and its dark, blossoming clouds, a deep rumble reverberates through the wet, densely packed sand, crawling up along her long, languid limbs and reaching her core. Thunder, and with it, the dreary sky would soon be alight with electricity – being so near to the water was foolish, and yet the nerves lining the hollow bones of her wings tingle with anticipation and enthrallment. What was life without risk, after all?
And then his lips are upon her, along the crevice where her rounded cheek meets with the slender length of her neck, and a shiver courses through her taut muscles and down along her rigid spine – and guilt is suddenly growing from a gentle pang to a painful clench, seizing her pounding heart and reminding her too well of the dangerous line laying before her. She had deliberately stepped over the unseen boundary, drawing him nearer to her, comforting him in the dark and grim daylight –
And yet, there is something decidedly intimate about the way his lips touch her cheek, his breath hot and sweet across her skin. As an intimacy she had not felt in so long, it soothed a wildness inside of her, while stirring something altogether monstrous looming in the shadows of her broken heart.
Friendship? she wonders to herself, knowing very little about the social construct (the only true companion she had ever had had quickly become her lover) but knowing deep down she was crossing the line. But there is something about the way his soft murmuring of words along her cheek touches something deep within her, touches something she had thought was long gone and dead, that urges her away from his gentle touch.
He deserved better; he needed more – he needed her strength, her resolve, her trust and respect.
It was selfish of her to seek comfort in him, when he was so vulnerable –
You are a force to be reckoned with, he says, and she cannot conceal a half-amused snort.
”Oh, you have no idea, Warrick,” and then, the guilt is tucked away within the shadow of an otherwise impish gleam in her bright eyes. ”You wouldn’t want to get on my bad side. Though, admittedly, I cannot see how you could – you’re perfect,” she muses with a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
And as his lips press against her muzzle once more, he murmurs to her, and a frigidity slowly envelopes her heart, filling in the void that had become a gaping wound in the wake of Magnus’ absence with ice.
”It is a pleasant thought, but a lie – a lie I cannot tell myself.” The humor gone, and in its place, a grimace – a deep frown in place of the roguish smile she had worn mere moments before. ”Magnus was - is a good man – a good friend, a better father – but I would be foolish to think he loved me, even for a minute.” Her eyes do not meet his – the truth is too painful, and so she chooses instead to lose herself in the rumbling discontent of the sea. ”Not the way that I loved him.”
A sigh, weary and worn, and then, ”Whatever it is that is weighing you down, Warrick ..” a breathless pause, the depth of her deep, gold-flecked hazel eyes searching the endless sea of his own, fluttering between each eye to see beyond the façade concealing its darkness. ”do not let it consume you, as it did him. Time stops for no one – do not let it get in the way of your happiness.”
Ellyse
@[Warrick]