[mature] Trekk.

[Noori]

Most days, most days stay the sole same
Please stay, for this fear it will not die
Down low, down amongst the thorn rows
Weeds grow, through the lilies and the vines

She doesn't see his crude smile - the thick film of her tears leaves Trekk only a shadow, a shadow of the man she knew as a child, as a frolicsome girl - all blushes and quiet smiles, freckled cheeks and soft, oh so soft kisses. A thousand years ago, in another world and at another time, they existed. A peripheral existence, not seen from straight on; the type of life that is lived so freely that every tiny detail is felt, every fractional brushing of his skin against hers a lifetime of happiness.

And then, a lifetime of sorrow. Each granular moment degrading her foundation with such swift and cutting movements - a going away of emotion so rapid that, in fact, she herself was gone away too. So far from this realm that time enveloped her being, armored her in woods so white that the cherry of her cheeks disappeared into time itself - remembered only, a fading taste of a lover's fluid that was at once salty and sweet, thick and dissipating.

She tastes him now.

He steps into her as he always has, as he always will, as he was always meant to. His body against hers, snagging on the rough edges of her exterior, but melting and combining and becoming one with her underneath once more. Her tongue, the only soft part of her, suckles the soft underside of his shoulder, where his skin is loose and flexible and fits perfectly into the folds of her mouth as she sucks him in, drinks him and becomes of him. There are flowers in her breath, flowers of mourning but also of new birth - a goodbye to the heartbreak, and a hello to the lovers embrace they shall share forever more.

"I am yours, Trekk," she whispers, moving her lips up to the tangled knots of his mane. She preens them, pulls them, feels the fluidity of his flesh beneath her touch. He responds to her every beck and call, the sinews of his flesh bending to her will like bees to flowers; her touch becomes more insistent, needing more of him, more, it will never be enough - there will never be enough time for her to make up for the harm she has dealt, for the heartbreak she has squandered on her darling.

She breaks from him suddenly, and her lips feel empty without the coarse fibers of his hair tangled between them. The emptiness of her soul as their skin becomes separate is a vacuum, the void of space consuming all matter before it, stars and worlds and beings and gods - all consuming, destroying all in her path with a dead passion so strong that not even time itself could envelope its chaos.

"Trekk, I... I've been practicing, with my magic, I've been dreaming and working an-and-" Her eyes are worried, panicked, too long without him and he will become only her shadow once more. "Just watch, okay?"

It happens slowly - for a long while, it seems as if nothing is being done at all. She only stands - the breeze tumbling her willow-tree locks, caressing the dogwood flowers that blossom from between her cracked bark. Her glowing green eyes are filled with concentration, the pulsating of her glowing innards growing more and more fervent. The wind screams, coiled barb and poison icy sprouts like wildfire along the riverside, storm clouds brew over head with an unearthly speed. For a moment, it seems as if she is calling upon all her power to end them both, to crush their existence, to render the passion of their story into a forgotten whisper of wasted grace.

Silence.

Not a leaf stirs; the clouds pause; she does not glow at all. The rough folds of her bark turn inwards. The cracks of her being meld together, the seams that were ripped by the gods sewn delicately back together. Then small hair fibers form; still alabaster white, but growing, ripening, coming to fruition. The silence is unbearable. Her eyes never leave his, never once, she does not even blink. Her colour returns; her blush; her youth.

She is tiny again. Two hands shorter than him, a rosy river child. She stands before him as he met her; and the last parts of her to drain themselves of magic are her eyes. Her pupils resurface, and she blinks. He is no longer a shadow. He is her everything. Her lover. Her sun. The only song she will ever even wish to sing.

"It's me, Trekk. Your baby." She smiles, her rosy lips trembling with a love so forcefully felt that she wishes she could stay this way forever. But already her hold on this foreign magic is weakening.

A step forward. Her skin against his. The soft, delicate folds of her body tracing every possible line, every possible crease and curve, her lips making love to his every part, to the soft spot behind his ankle bones, sending shivers down his spine with a warm breath placed there. They are in tandem, they are in concert, a wavering flounce of love that shall inevitably fail. Her hips call to his deep seated desires, beg of him a deed so sacred that she regrets ever sharing it with anyone except him. Her tail tangles itself around his leg; she goes round and round, dancing with him, pressing her lips and her skin and her freckled cheeks to each of his surfaces. Her tongue mingles with the delicate skin within his ears, beneath his eyes, far below his stomach where only she has ever tasted and been one with. She fixates on him, sends her breath and her tongue and her body running down his every crevice, tracing him with such intimacy that there is no time for thoughts, no time for sadness any more.

"Touch me, Trekk," She breathes, desperate, longing, knowing that it will not be long before she returns to her hardened, magicked self. Her hands are around grabbing at the muscles of his back, her lips pressed against the underside of his jaw - the highest she can reach while standing on her tiptoes. Her breasts are nestled tightly against his muscled chest, her leg raising and begging to be taken into his arms, for him to hoist her up and toss her as if she weighs nothing, but means everything. He smells beautiful. He tastes angelic.

"Make me yours."

noori

Idk if this counts as smut but it's getting there.
Magically described them as human because sue me.