steady as a preacher, free as a weed…
--couldn‘t wait to get goin‘ but wasn‘t quite ready to leave
His laughter crushes her soul.
It snuffs out the light of stars that had risen there, replacing it with the dankness of wet ash. Before him (how long ago had that been? Days? Years? Time is lost in his presence) she hasn’t known cruelty. But now? Now her eyes were wide open. He has robbed her of the world and left her to pick at the remains. There is nothing she can do though; she is only a child, a child cloaked beneath the hips of the woman she will grow up to be. He is everything; he is the stars, the moon, and everything forbidden.
She is dancing in the flames, she knows this. And yet she craves more; more danger, more friction. He doesn’t know it, but beneath the large doe eyes on a filly, she has grown light years. How could she not, having seen the stars?
His words hang, unspoken, in the air between them. She cannot hear them, but she can feel them. They linger just out of reach and she finds herself holding her breath. It is all for naught though, because he closes his mouth and smiles while she frowns. But then his muzzle is on her cheek and her anger at him is forgotten. How strange, she has only known his touch but more a minute and already she finds herself craving it. She leans into him like a cat to its keepers hand, her eyelids fluttering. But they fly open and all there is, is heat. It dances around her, robbing her of breath. A sweat immediately breaks out on her slender neck but that is the only show of her discomfort. She meets his gaze with a fierce determination ill-befitting of someone so young. “Ashes, you say? How many things have you burned before? How many times have you been burnt? There’s a reason you run through the galaxies like the deer run through the meadow.” Her voice is wild, swirling with a fire to rival those flames licking at her delicate ankles. And still she holds his gaze, unwilling to let him avoid her again.
topsail