05-19-2021, 11:46 AM
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His chest is tight with nerves, even while his mouth is soft against her face. Targaryen can picture it now: her green eyes flashing, the sensation of his heart falling as Cheri tells him that she’s only ever considered him a friend and she wants it to stay that way. Would he be able to handle her rejection? The stallion has seen his mother, rooted in her place among the woods, cry over the lost loves she’s had. He doesn’t want to find himself in a similar position, neglecting future children and telling sad stories to the trees. But he can’t help but think of where he might be without Cheri, and he wonders if he would still be alone in a thick, abandoned forest.
The tobiano feels Cheri’s face relax with his admission, and he feels his chest loosen in tandem. She presses into him, and Targaryen exhales gently at the sensation of her body molding to his. Their bodies are so different — she is all slender curves, while he’s defined by straight-lined muscle — and yet she fits into his chest perfectly, her nimble head fitting easily under his chin. He feels like he can truly enjoy Cheri’s closeness knowing that she has accepted him, and the wind tugging her closer only further stokes the fire that her touch ignites.
Targaryen can feel her smile against his face, and his mouth curves to mirror hers when she mentions the festival. That day has been on his mind since it happened, a memory that continues to drag him back toward Cheri. She had looked so lovely, a young goddess of the earth and sky placed among a land of ice. And he’d almost confessed his adoration for her right then, with those pale flowers falling from her plaited mane and their teeth chattering from the cold. He’d been worried she would have rejected him then, too, and it had kept him silent. Yet he can still remember the way Cheri had tossed and turned beside him as they slept that night, and he can’t forget the way he had stayed awake too, feeling a hundred questions race through his mind.
He flushes at Cheri’s compliment paired with her wings spreading across his sides. They have mentioned the ways time has matured them over their years of knowing each other but her compliment is different this time. Her voice is soft but confident, and Targaryen knows Cheri could ask him for anything and he would do whatever it takes to give it to her. “I’ve always found you absolutely dazzling,” he says in response with a voice laced with confidence and sincerity. It feels strange to compliment her after she’s mentioned his attractiveness, but Targaryen can’t stop the words from leaving his mouth. He’s spent years keeping those six words a secret, but he would regret it if he didn’t tell her how beautiful she is.
Targaryen rumbles a laugh when Cheri mentions a secret romance, but it is filled with joy rather than scorn. “No, I’m just dumb enough to get lost.” He’s always been clumsy — they’ve both known that since the beginning — and it makes sense that he would have gotten lost in the dark world of the eclipse. Yet he can understand her worries, even shared in them. For the briefest moment, a brindle girl flashes through his mind’s eye, but Targaryen dismisses the thought. He thinks Catryn is a friend, and as brave as she may be, he doesn’t have the same feelings for her that he has for Cheri.
Her closeness draws him in, making the hot spring and Loess’ wide landscape fade into a blurry backdrop. Cheri’s mutual affection makes relief buoy his heart upward, and he becomes even more aware of her presence when she leans back to look at him. There’s a fire shining in the electric green of her eyes, and Targaryen’s brown eyes brighten to mirror it. He wants to kiss her again, but he’s nervous about what might happen if it goes further than that. The tobiano isn’t sure if he can trust his instincts. Will the daydreams he has about her guide him into the future? What if his lack of knowledge isn’t enough for her? His thoughts begin to make him nauseous, and Targaryen realizes he’s probably overthinking it.
She’s here, real, right in front of him with her eyes searching his face with a look that drives right into his chest.
And he can sense that she wants more, just like he does. Targaryen catches her gaze with his eyes and quietly says, “I can’t believe you’re really this close to me.” They’ve slept beside each other, flown together, ran together, and she’s healed his wounds more times than they can count; but this is different, much more intimate and hotter than he could have imagined. Her skin looks so soft from this closer, and her curves feel like sun-warmed water against him. Targaryen can’t help himself — he presses his lips to her cheek again, then moves further down so he can place a trail of kisses toward her mouth, feeling his lips tingle and his heart soar.
The tobiano feels Cheri’s face relax with his admission, and he feels his chest loosen in tandem. She presses into him, and Targaryen exhales gently at the sensation of her body molding to his. Their bodies are so different — she is all slender curves, while he’s defined by straight-lined muscle — and yet she fits into his chest perfectly, her nimble head fitting easily under his chin. He feels like he can truly enjoy Cheri’s closeness knowing that she has accepted him, and the wind tugging her closer only further stokes the fire that her touch ignites.
Targaryen can feel her smile against his face, and his mouth curves to mirror hers when she mentions the festival. That day has been on his mind since it happened, a memory that continues to drag him back toward Cheri. She had looked so lovely, a young goddess of the earth and sky placed among a land of ice. And he’d almost confessed his adoration for her right then, with those pale flowers falling from her plaited mane and their teeth chattering from the cold. He’d been worried she would have rejected him then, too, and it had kept him silent. Yet he can still remember the way Cheri had tossed and turned beside him as they slept that night, and he can’t forget the way he had stayed awake too, feeling a hundred questions race through his mind.
He flushes at Cheri’s compliment paired with her wings spreading across his sides. They have mentioned the ways time has matured them over their years of knowing each other but her compliment is different this time. Her voice is soft but confident, and Targaryen knows Cheri could ask him for anything and he would do whatever it takes to give it to her. “I’ve always found you absolutely dazzling,” he says in response with a voice laced with confidence and sincerity. It feels strange to compliment her after she’s mentioned his attractiveness, but Targaryen can’t stop the words from leaving his mouth. He’s spent years keeping those six words a secret, but he would regret it if he didn’t tell her how beautiful she is.
Targaryen rumbles a laugh when Cheri mentions a secret romance, but it is filled with joy rather than scorn. “No, I’m just dumb enough to get lost.” He’s always been clumsy — they’ve both known that since the beginning — and it makes sense that he would have gotten lost in the dark world of the eclipse. Yet he can understand her worries, even shared in them. For the briefest moment, a brindle girl flashes through his mind’s eye, but Targaryen dismisses the thought. He thinks Catryn is a friend, and as brave as she may be, he doesn’t have the same feelings for her that he has for Cheri.
Her closeness draws him in, making the hot spring and Loess’ wide landscape fade into a blurry backdrop. Cheri’s mutual affection makes relief buoy his heart upward, and he becomes even more aware of her presence when she leans back to look at him. There’s a fire shining in the electric green of her eyes, and Targaryen’s brown eyes brighten to mirror it. He wants to kiss her again, but he’s nervous about what might happen if it goes further than that. The tobiano isn’t sure if he can trust his instincts. Will the daydreams he has about her guide him into the future? What if his lack of knowledge isn’t enough for her? His thoughts begin to make him nauseous, and Targaryen realizes he’s probably overthinking it.
She’s here, real, right in front of him with her eyes searching his face with a look that drives right into his chest.
And he can sense that she wants more, just like he does. Targaryen catches her gaze with his eyes and quietly says, “I can’t believe you’re really this close to me.” They’ve slept beside each other, flown together, ran together, and she’s healed his wounds more times than they can count; but this is different, much more intimate and hotter than he could have imagined. Her skin looks so soft from this closer, and her curves feel like sun-warmed water against him. Targaryen can’t help himself — he presses his lips to her cheek again, then moves further down so he can place a trail of kisses toward her mouth, feeling his lips tingle and his heart soar.
@[Cheri]