06-03-2021, 12:39 PM
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Targaryen finds himself equal parts disappointed and thrilled that she hadn’t managed to practice in their time apart. He thinks it would be fun to fly with her now, to show her Beqanna from a bird’s-eye view and watch her eyes take in the patchwork of colors that he loves to see from above. By the same token, he’s secretly pleased, only because it means he can help her practice more. He imagines running his nose along the sunlight feathers, making her brindled shoulders flex as she raises them higher, and watching the shadows under their bodies shift as she pushes the wings down to mimic flight.
He’s about to say something to the effect of, “I guess I’ll have to find some time in my busy schedule to help you out,” when she mentions being distracted since the sun returned. It’s a good time to mention the loss of her blindness, but Targaryen finds that he’s speechless as her dark eyes seem to absorb him. She’s captured him, effectively paralyzing him wherever her eyes trace his body.
The only thing Targaryen’s certain he can move is his gaze. If she’s taking the time to study him, then perhaps it wouldn’t be quite so wrong to follow the path of her curves. He can’t deny that Catryn is beautiful; the soft pink of her brindling draws attention to the bend of her back and the smooth plane of her flanks. A galaxy rests across her chest, something Targaryen hadn’t noticed the first time they met. The stars on her skin seem obvious now, especially after so much time in the dark.
There’s an entire universe in the details of her body — the sun aglow at her sides, the stars twisting across her chest, meteors showering down her sides, and the darkness of space in her eyes.
His brown eyes find her dark ones when she compliments him, and he feels his paralysis release. Targaryen’s lips curl into a smile as he says, “Thank you. You’re not too bad-looking yourself.” He’s never been the type for long-winded explanations, and he has no idea how he could put his observation of her into words. Targaryen thinks he could probably spend all day studying her (or at least thinking about it), but he knows that isn’t the best option right now, that it might be a mixture of testosterone and her beauty talking.
So he’s grateful when she moves on, asking him about the eclipse. “I got lost.” Targaryen can’t help but chuckle at himself; the situation had been scary then, and it’s still embarrassing, but at least he can laugh at it now. “I went for a walk one day, and then I couldn’t find my way home.” The darkness had confused him, and shadow monsters had steered him wrong, and then suddenly the trees looked nothing like Taiga’s redwoods. In fact, they looked nothing like any trees he was familiar with.
He takes this moment to commend her, to finally say what he’d been thinking ever since they met. “I don’t know how you did it. I was terrified, but you’ve always been so brave.”
He’s about to say something to the effect of, “I guess I’ll have to find some time in my busy schedule to help you out,” when she mentions being distracted since the sun returned. It’s a good time to mention the loss of her blindness, but Targaryen finds that he’s speechless as her dark eyes seem to absorb him. She’s captured him, effectively paralyzing him wherever her eyes trace his body.
The only thing Targaryen’s certain he can move is his gaze. If she’s taking the time to study him, then perhaps it wouldn’t be quite so wrong to follow the path of her curves. He can’t deny that Catryn is beautiful; the soft pink of her brindling draws attention to the bend of her back and the smooth plane of her flanks. A galaxy rests across her chest, something Targaryen hadn’t noticed the first time they met. The stars on her skin seem obvious now, especially after so much time in the dark.
There’s an entire universe in the details of her body — the sun aglow at her sides, the stars twisting across her chest, meteors showering down her sides, and the darkness of space in her eyes.
His brown eyes find her dark ones when she compliments him, and he feels his paralysis release. Targaryen’s lips curl into a smile as he says, “Thank you. You’re not too bad-looking yourself.” He’s never been the type for long-winded explanations, and he has no idea how he could put his observation of her into words. Targaryen thinks he could probably spend all day studying her (or at least thinking about it), but he knows that isn’t the best option right now, that it might be a mixture of testosterone and her beauty talking.
So he’s grateful when she moves on, asking him about the eclipse. “I got lost.” Targaryen can’t help but chuckle at himself; the situation had been scary then, and it’s still embarrassing, but at least he can laugh at it now. “I went for a walk one day, and then I couldn’t find my way home.” The darkness had confused him, and shadow monsters had steered him wrong, and then suddenly the trees looked nothing like Taiga’s redwoods. In fact, they looked nothing like any trees he was familiar with.
He takes this moment to commend her, to finally say what he’d been thinking ever since they met. “I don’t know how you did it. I was terrified, but you’ve always been so brave.”
@[Catryn]