10-11-2021, 02:54 PM
“It’s a gift.” She says, and the way her mouth curves with an amused smile is in such obvious contrast to the way her eyes flash from clearwater blue to something almost glacial, a warning that he should not pry for more lest he find things he regrets knowing. "Though, I would argue that I say just enough. Perhaps it would be better to wait and see how you fare with the sharks before you surrender yourself to darker depths." It feels like even that is saying too much, sharing too much, showing too many of these jagged pieces she has grown so good at burying beneath the surface. Parts of her that no one would see and choose to stay and know.
So she turns from him in favor of the water, using the sensation of the waves against her skin as a way to resettle the prickling of her nerves and drag those walls back up to heights that will better protect her. She isn’t watching to see if he will join her, but the splashing sound behind her is enough to know he has. She has no reason for the smile that appears on her mouth again - something soft and quiet, a genuine kind of satisfaction that this stranger has chosen to stay for at least a little while longer. “Another gift.” She says, but this smile comes without the echo of a warning as she turns in place to watch him again. “It’s luckier for you than it is for me, don’t you think?” Amusement flashes in her eyes, tugs at the smile on her mouth as touches her lips to the sparkling surface of the water.
There is something shameless about this stallion that makes it entirely too easy to be around him, this feeling that no matter who she is or what she is made of, he will not be sated until he knows all of it. It is in the laughter and the smiles, this endless, easy delight and the flashing amusement in his bright eyes. It is in the way he has followed her here even with the threat of sharks, the way he stands beside her close enough to touch even despite the barbs of her tongue when his glimpses of her reveal too much. But as sure as she is of his curiosity, she is also sure how quickly it will wane once he has discovered every last one of her dark corners.
“You are entirely too pleased with yourself.” She says, though there is something in the tone of his question that makes her wonder what it might feel like to have his lips tracing the constellations of stars that stretch across the gold of her face. It is just a moment of gentle curiosity that softens the lines of her face, just a moment and then gone again as she remembers herself and her guards and that she wears this armor for a reason. She thinks of Obscene now; if the cliff had been their first date, then creating the twins had been their second. Their final.
“I don’t do second dates.” She tells him, and her eyes are hard and clear as any sky, brittle and bruised and filled for a moment with blame that has no home except herself. “So if you survive the sharks and I survive your ego,” with every word the dark fades, with every moment of watching his face there is new levity in the pit of her broken chest, “we’ll have to skip ahead to a third date instead.”
She wades in until the water touches the base of her wings and tugs at the gold and dark of the lowest feathers. This is where the brown algae grows, the kelp she can remember her mother using like bandages over superficial wounds she received playing as a child. She plucks a piece from the water between her teeth, frowning at the salty taste, and then carefully lays it over a wound on Reave’s shoulder where the bone ridge rises from skin made raw and welted and a shade of red too angry to remind her of any dawn. “Better or worse?” She asks when her gaze returns to his face, and for once there is something bare and vulnerable in that aching blue of her quiet eyes. Something dangerously like trust.
So she turns from him in favor of the water, using the sensation of the waves against her skin as a way to resettle the prickling of her nerves and drag those walls back up to heights that will better protect her. She isn’t watching to see if he will join her, but the splashing sound behind her is enough to know he has. She has no reason for the smile that appears on her mouth again - something soft and quiet, a genuine kind of satisfaction that this stranger has chosen to stay for at least a little while longer. “Another gift.” She says, but this smile comes without the echo of a warning as she turns in place to watch him again. “It’s luckier for you than it is for me, don’t you think?” Amusement flashes in her eyes, tugs at the smile on her mouth as touches her lips to the sparkling surface of the water.
There is something shameless about this stallion that makes it entirely too easy to be around him, this feeling that no matter who she is or what she is made of, he will not be sated until he knows all of it. It is in the laughter and the smiles, this endless, easy delight and the flashing amusement in his bright eyes. It is in the way he has followed her here even with the threat of sharks, the way he stands beside her close enough to touch even despite the barbs of her tongue when his glimpses of her reveal too much. But as sure as she is of his curiosity, she is also sure how quickly it will wane once he has discovered every last one of her dark corners.
“You are entirely too pleased with yourself.” She says, though there is something in the tone of his question that makes her wonder what it might feel like to have his lips tracing the constellations of stars that stretch across the gold of her face. It is just a moment of gentle curiosity that softens the lines of her face, just a moment and then gone again as she remembers herself and her guards and that she wears this armor for a reason. She thinks of Obscene now; if the cliff had been their first date, then creating the twins had been their second. Their final.
“I don’t do second dates.” She tells him, and her eyes are hard and clear as any sky, brittle and bruised and filled for a moment with blame that has no home except herself. “So if you survive the sharks and I survive your ego,” with every word the dark fades, with every moment of watching his face there is new levity in the pit of her broken chest, “we’ll have to skip ahead to a third date instead.”
She wades in until the water touches the base of her wings and tugs at the gold and dark of the lowest feathers. This is where the brown algae grows, the kelp she can remember her mother using like bandages over superficial wounds she received playing as a child. She plucks a piece from the water between her teeth, frowning at the salty taste, and then carefully lays it over a wound on Reave’s shoulder where the bone ridge rises from skin made raw and welted and a shade of red too angry to remind her of any dawn. “Better or worse?” She asks when her gaze returns to his face, and for once there is something bare and vulnerable in that aching blue of her quiet eyes. Something dangerously like trust.
REVELRIE
it feels like falling, it feels like rain,
like losing my balance again and again
@Reave