02-21-2019, 09:32 PM
At once the world shifts and suddenly it is his heart in her hand and she is stunned, trying so hard to remember how to hold it safe with fingers that shake so badly. It is a gift but she didn’t ask for it, isn’t even sure if she’s ready for it yet. Except that is the nature of things like this, matters of the heart. It is almost never a conscious decision to love, not something that can be so carefully planned to exist at just the right moment. There is always risk, and she can see that he understands that, just as she can see that he is choosing to leap for her anyway.
It is a wonder to listen to him now, to listen to the way in which he sees her. The way in which he feels for her. The things he thinks he wants with her and for her, the kind of life he hopes they could have. It both exhilarating and wildly intimidating, something she simultaneously wants to lean into and run from. It has always been her natural inclination to be alone, to trust only in herself, only solitude. She is wild at heart, wild in her soul, but once upon a time someone had asked her to trust him, and she had been too quick to leap. Too quick to fall into something she thought would be endless, forever.
She hadn’t even considered preparing for the crash of it, that abrupt, unexpected end.
But it had found her anyway.
But he seems to know this too - she finds some semblance of her secret truths in the hum of his thoughts - and it is a wonder that this man should already know so well what she does not have the words to say. Except, it isn’t. Not a wonder. He has lived and loved for far longer than she can begin to comprehend, is a master of the mind and hearing the unsaid, the secrets hidden in the backs of her eyes and the tired lines of her guarded face, truths she keeps buried behind other words.
She hides, but he knows her anyway.
Wants her anyway.
‘You undo me.’ He says, and she closes her eyes against these words that light old fires beneath her skin, words that, when she opens her eyes again to look at him, make those dark eyes burn with wary fire. There is nothing in her that objects when he claims her with lips and teeth, no tightening of muscle to pull away someplace safe and out of reach. But she is slow to reciprocate, some deep down place inside her wondering how far he would go without a word from her to stop. Because she isn’t sure she wants him to stop, isn’t sure anymore what she wants at all. She breathes out hard against him, pushes her nose against his jaw, teeth against the soft hollow beside the corner of his beautiful mouth - an almost kiss but then she pauses, hovers there, “what is it you think you see in me, Magnus?”
It is a wonder to listen to him now, to listen to the way in which he sees her. The way in which he feels for her. The things he thinks he wants with her and for her, the kind of life he hopes they could have. It both exhilarating and wildly intimidating, something she simultaneously wants to lean into and run from. It has always been her natural inclination to be alone, to trust only in herself, only solitude. She is wild at heart, wild in her soul, but once upon a time someone had asked her to trust him, and she had been too quick to leap. Too quick to fall into something she thought would be endless, forever.
She hadn’t even considered preparing for the crash of it, that abrupt, unexpected end.
But it had found her anyway.
But he seems to know this too - she finds some semblance of her secret truths in the hum of his thoughts - and it is a wonder that this man should already know so well what she does not have the words to say. Except, it isn’t. Not a wonder. He has lived and loved for far longer than she can begin to comprehend, is a master of the mind and hearing the unsaid, the secrets hidden in the backs of her eyes and the tired lines of her guarded face, truths she keeps buried behind other words.
She hides, but he knows her anyway.
Wants her anyway.
‘You undo me.’ He says, and she closes her eyes against these words that light old fires beneath her skin, words that, when she opens her eyes again to look at him, make those dark eyes burn with wary fire. There is nothing in her that objects when he claims her with lips and teeth, no tightening of muscle to pull away someplace safe and out of reach. But she is slow to reciprocate, some deep down place inside her wondering how far he would go without a word from her to stop. Because she isn’t sure she wants him to stop, isn’t sure anymore what she wants at all. She breathes out hard against him, pushes her nose against his jaw, teeth against the soft hollow beside the corner of his beautiful mouth - an almost kiss but then she pauses, hovers there, “what is it you think you see in me, Magnus?”