09-19-2021, 08:27 PM
“It doesn’t have to say too much about you though, does it?” There is something almost mischievous in the way her eyes sparkle like crystal blue starlight to match the mirror of a half smile crooking in the corner of her mouth. “Not when you say so entirely much yourself.” But when she glances away again she is busy wondering what these truths mean. She can understand not caring for pity - it is a wasted empathetic response if ever there were one. But to not care for kindness either? She cannot be sure that there isn’t a question in her eyes when she steals another frowning glimpse at him as they walk.
She had thought that she’d captured a sense of who he was by his laughter and his wit and the way his eyes twinkled merrily at her words. But now she finds herself wondering if it is a mask of sorts, and if not a mask at all, then is she simply seeing the kind of someone she needs right now? Something with more levity than this dark inside her chest, more mirth than the silence of all these broken ribs around her limping heart.
She is probably staring more than she ought to be now, and that crease in her delicate steel brow is fast becoming a constant as she tries to pry apart these layers she had not initially noticed in him. It is a feeling of sudden doubt and even more sudden mistrust, but it is echoed by an ache of wanting to be mistaken.
He saves himself in his answer, in the way he gives her one single no to a question with two parts.
“Ah, now you start being sparse with your answers?” She asks, and there is a glint of that familiar steel in the lash of those beautiful stone blue eyes across his masked face. “No.” She says, and the way the word leaves her lips is something contemplative, the sound paired so perfectly to the careful way she is suddenly studying his face for a hint of secrets he hides beneath the planes of exposed bone. “I think it is the same answer for both questions.” She decides, almost softer, but she waits a moment to see if he will tell her she is mistaken.
When she wades into the water, she does so without waiting to see if he’ll join her. It is half because this ocean is home, because the waves that touch her skin as she holds her wings aloft are the same waves her mother introduced her to as a girl - and it is half because his wicked smile is a thing that causes strange stirrings in her chest until she forces her gaze away. Impossible boy. “Mmm,” she says, and there is a pleased smile on her lips as she keeps her back turned to him, venturing further until the water starts to touch the lowest feathers, “well as soon as you feel brave enough to hear the truth, ask, and I’ll tell you.”
There is something in her eyes when she turns her face to look back at him. Laughter and a moment of levity, mirth, and a hint of the wildling girl who had leapt from the edge of a cliff with a beautiful stranger, into the storm, into the sea. “You should be glad though,” her wings lower to skim the surface of the water, but the traces of outgoing ripples are distorted by the incoming waves, “the last man I took out on a date had to jump off a cliff with me. At the time, neither of us had wings.” Her head tips delicately in a way that is almost inquisitive and entirely charming, and she cannot help but to expect he’ll think she must be lying. “You, at least, likely know how to swim.”
She had thought that she’d captured a sense of who he was by his laughter and his wit and the way his eyes twinkled merrily at her words. But now she finds herself wondering if it is a mask of sorts, and if not a mask at all, then is she simply seeing the kind of someone she needs right now? Something with more levity than this dark inside her chest, more mirth than the silence of all these broken ribs around her limping heart.
She is probably staring more than she ought to be now, and that crease in her delicate steel brow is fast becoming a constant as she tries to pry apart these layers she had not initially noticed in him. It is a feeling of sudden doubt and even more sudden mistrust, but it is echoed by an ache of wanting to be mistaken.
He saves himself in his answer, in the way he gives her one single no to a question with two parts.
“Ah, now you start being sparse with your answers?” She asks, and there is a glint of that familiar steel in the lash of those beautiful stone blue eyes across his masked face. “No.” She says, and the way the word leaves her lips is something contemplative, the sound paired so perfectly to the careful way she is suddenly studying his face for a hint of secrets he hides beneath the planes of exposed bone. “I think it is the same answer for both questions.” She decides, almost softer, but she waits a moment to see if he will tell her she is mistaken.
When she wades into the water, she does so without waiting to see if he’ll join her. It is half because this ocean is home, because the waves that touch her skin as she holds her wings aloft are the same waves her mother introduced her to as a girl - and it is half because his wicked smile is a thing that causes strange stirrings in her chest until she forces her gaze away. Impossible boy. “Mmm,” she says, and there is a pleased smile on her lips as she keeps her back turned to him, venturing further until the water starts to touch the lowest feathers, “well as soon as you feel brave enough to hear the truth, ask, and I’ll tell you.”
There is something in her eyes when she turns her face to look back at him. Laughter and a moment of levity, mirth, and a hint of the wildling girl who had leapt from the edge of a cliff with a beautiful stranger, into the storm, into the sea. “You should be glad though,” her wings lower to skim the surface of the water, but the traces of outgoing ripples are distorted by the incoming waves, “the last man I took out on a date had to jump off a cliff with me. At the time, neither of us had wings.” Her head tips delicately in a way that is almost inquisitive and entirely charming, and she cannot help but to expect he’ll think she must be lying. “You, at least, likely know how to swim.”
REVELRIE
it feels like falling, it feels like rain,
like losing my balance again and again