08-23-2017, 07:44 PM
Ellyse
I know some things that you don't; I've done things that you won't
there's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home
there's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home
Her plea does not go unanswered –
There is a flicker of trepidation in the core of his dark, roving eye, mirroring her own, as her thundering heart pounds endlessly at its tightly wrought, iron cage. He is as uncertain as she is, entangled in the complexity of the emotion drawn out from that night spent beneath a bare but starlit sky – it is almost foolish, how her heart had become tethered to the fragmented, damaged pieces that remain of his.
She had sworn she would never love another so broken, but he is not simply like any other – the heavy barbed wire around his heart, not unlike her own, fell with ease, longing to find a purpose to beat still, raw and vulnerable once more beneath the splendor of the falling sun and the caress of her lips against his. He was not so heavily guarded, and beneath the roughened exterior, there lay a deep yearning to be wanted – to be loved, and she longed to quell the deep-set worry hidden in the shadow of his sullen eye, of the weariness that contorted the handsome lines of his masculine face.
She can almost feel his pulse thrumming with a sudden ferocity, pulsating through the length of his slender, nearly gaunt body, where the faint ridge of his hipbone can be seen even beneath the darkening descent of nightfall. The dread and frothing anxiety is already rising to the surface, glimmering in the darkness of his amber eye, settled within her own deep, watchful hazel gaze – and for a moment, her heart is skipping a beat. She is certain that any moment now, he could recoil – he might draw back into himself, leaving her both breathless and speechless, and wrought with an emotion she is not altogether prepared to relive again so soon.
When he does not, she is stunned – her breath caught in the tightness of her throat, suddenly constricted with emotion – and in that brief, flickering moment in time, a thick line is drawn between the one her heart had once pined for and the one that stood before her, raw, vulnerable and beckoning her to take his fragile heart into her grasp (he may be from his loin, but he is nothing like his father – not where it matters most). Quietly, silently, he is begging her not to spurn him; not to break what little is left by the unforgiving hand of time and heartbreak.
Soon, he has averted his gaze, his half-confession lingering somewhere in the thick humidity of the falling sun, the memories too much. He is drowning before her, and gently, her cheek brushes against his own, drawing him nearer to her, reaching up to drape the elongated slope of her neck over his own and to pull him against her. Softly, her lips touch and tug at the matted tresses that lay tangled across the length of his neck, and soft, gentle kisses rain upon the deep russet of his skin – until her pale mouth is pressed against the golden of his own, seeking to chase away the dark fear and unshakable insecurity taking hold of his heart.
”I have never felt for anyone the way that I feel for you, Ledger,” she says finally, her voice rumbling against the corner of his mouth, where soft and urging kisses press, longing for him to not only hear her words, but to listen to her words. ”you must learn to trust me, and I, you. We have both been hurt – but I am nothing if not loyal,” she breathes, tucking away a lock of hair away from his eyeless socket, nuzzling the scarred flesh that lay beneath it. ”and if I tell you that I am yours, I am yours, and yours alone –“
Her head tilts then, seeking to meet the darkness of his gaze with the light of her own – the rising moonlight gleaming within the golden flecks that lay around the rim of her eye.
”- and I am yours, if you’ll have me.”
There is a flicker of trepidation in the core of his dark, roving eye, mirroring her own, as her thundering heart pounds endlessly at its tightly wrought, iron cage. He is as uncertain as she is, entangled in the complexity of the emotion drawn out from that night spent beneath a bare but starlit sky – it is almost foolish, how her heart had become tethered to the fragmented, damaged pieces that remain of his.
She had sworn she would never love another so broken, but he is not simply like any other – the heavy barbed wire around his heart, not unlike her own, fell with ease, longing to find a purpose to beat still, raw and vulnerable once more beneath the splendor of the falling sun and the caress of her lips against his. He was not so heavily guarded, and beneath the roughened exterior, there lay a deep yearning to be wanted – to be loved, and she longed to quell the deep-set worry hidden in the shadow of his sullen eye, of the weariness that contorted the handsome lines of his masculine face.
She can almost feel his pulse thrumming with a sudden ferocity, pulsating through the length of his slender, nearly gaunt body, where the faint ridge of his hipbone can be seen even beneath the darkening descent of nightfall. The dread and frothing anxiety is already rising to the surface, glimmering in the darkness of his amber eye, settled within her own deep, watchful hazel gaze – and for a moment, her heart is skipping a beat. She is certain that any moment now, he could recoil – he might draw back into himself, leaving her both breathless and speechless, and wrought with an emotion she is not altogether prepared to relive again so soon.
When he does not, she is stunned – her breath caught in the tightness of her throat, suddenly constricted with emotion – and in that brief, flickering moment in time, a thick line is drawn between the one her heart had once pined for and the one that stood before her, raw, vulnerable and beckoning her to take his fragile heart into her grasp (he may be from his loin, but he is nothing like his father – not where it matters most). Quietly, silently, he is begging her not to spurn him; not to break what little is left by the unforgiving hand of time and heartbreak.
Soon, he has averted his gaze, his half-confession lingering somewhere in the thick humidity of the falling sun, the memories too much. He is drowning before her, and gently, her cheek brushes against his own, drawing him nearer to her, reaching up to drape the elongated slope of her neck over his own and to pull him against her. Softly, her lips touch and tug at the matted tresses that lay tangled across the length of his neck, and soft, gentle kisses rain upon the deep russet of his skin – until her pale mouth is pressed against the golden of his own, seeking to chase away the dark fear and unshakable insecurity taking hold of his heart.
”I have never felt for anyone the way that I feel for you, Ledger,” she says finally, her voice rumbling against the corner of his mouth, where soft and urging kisses press, longing for him to not only hear her words, but to listen to her words. ”you must learn to trust me, and I, you. We have both been hurt – but I am nothing if not loyal,” she breathes, tucking away a lock of hair away from his eyeless socket, nuzzling the scarred flesh that lay beneath it. ”and if I tell you that I am yours, I am yours, and yours alone –“
Her head tilts then, seeking to meet the darkness of his gaze with the light of her own – the rising moonlight gleaming within the golden flecks that lay around the rim of her eye.
”- and I am yours, if you’ll have me.”
head of war of tephra
daughter of elysium & speck
daughter of elysium & speck
@[Ledger]