09-29-2017, 01:59 PM
Canaan
And maybe, I'll find out a way to make it back someday.
To watch you, to guide you through the darkest of your days.
To watch you, to guide you through the darkest of your days.
How it might feel to watch the two make love, to see them entwine as the wind and the sea so often do, tumultuous and ravenous, passionate and with reckless abandon – the longing glances had not gone unnoticed by him; he could only imagine the fury and heat of their own devotion. It is the same yearning hidden away within the vivid green of her own gaze, lurid and tempting, boring into his own as the heavy slope of her spine and the swell of her wide, childbearing hips beg him closer.
He does not take the sight of her for granted; he relishes in it and commits it to memory so he might forever remember the bleary sunshine peeking through the dense foliage, highlighting one of the most beautiful and shapely creatures he had ever encountered. So that he might remember the moment he realized how his heart might have the capacity to love two as deeply as he loved one - just as he can remember the moment emerald sheathed in indigo had stolen his heart, years ago.
His cheek brushes across her own, and a soft squeal emerges from the heat of her breast – he cannot suppress the smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth, savoring the caress of her lips along his cheekbone while his own gently brush over her throat, where he can feel her vibrant pulse thrumming beneath his tongue. Her softly spoken words reverberate across his skin, held thick in the warmth stirring between them, and a soft gust of wind carries through the dense thicket – wrapping itself around them and drawing her closer to him.
”Not for you, nor for her,” he murmurs softly, each syllable saccharine with truth. ”never too busy.”
She can see him, and she does know his wild and restless heart because it is her own wild and restless heart, yearning to feel complete and whole. There is a soft confession lingering in the air, and though there is a part of him that has always known she had never intended to take what had been his, she had, and she had filled a void left in his absence and the heart of his water nymph had grown so that it could love both so wholly.
He can see that, so clearly.
”I know that you don’t want to take her– and you never will; she loves us both.” He says softly, seeking the depth of her gaze, longing to see what lay beneath the crackling electricity of the surface, to see into the tender core of her soul. ”She has come to love you so completely, and you will never know what it means to me that she and my sons –“ our sons; his heart might always pine for what cannot be with the boys he had been forced to leave behind. ”- had you when I could not be with them.”
I am he as you are she, and she is me and we are three together.
Together.
He is not far behind when she does begin to plunge deeper into the dimly lit woodland, and gently his pale lips caress the curve of her hip, tasting the sweetness of wisteria and the saltiness of the sun, a heat stirring within him as her tail sways to and fro, brushing across the length of his gilded legs, causing him to stiffen with desire. He does not stay there – he craves for her to want him as he does want her, and so his shoulder presses along the natural, feminine swell of her barrel, while his teeth gently rake up the length of her spine, where his tongue gently tastes the nape of her neck where her withers lay. The finely preened feathers of his dark umber wings bristle against her side, while the hollowed bones remain clutching tightly to the caramel of his pelt.
”Show me.”
If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all,
then I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you.
then I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you.