09-07-2017, 12:55 PM
Ellyse
I have the tendency of getting very physical,
so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
Her own worries are soothed by the light gleaming in his eye; by the golden fleck of the amber depth that lie within it. Her breath is soft and warm against his neck, as her mouth brushes gently across the hardened line of his jaw – such tension often lay there, undone only by her gentle kiss, but he is at ease and for the moment, she is comforted by the knowledge. She had seen him so coiled up and wary for so long, she had begun to wonder if he had the capacity to be anything but – yet as his shoulder presses against hers, and as her tightly folded wing nestles gently against the subtle curve of his barrel, she, too, is at ease. The restless sea roiling inside of her quieted, as the tension building up within her own taut muscle slowly faded away.
There is an airiness within his tone, laced with humor, and it stirs a faint smile at the corner of her pale mouth. Not many had the ability to draw it out of her, but she could hardly suppress it when beside him. She felt no need to hide it away, nor any reason to remain so still or so stoic. She had already given him her heart, and she had made herself as vulnerable as she had ever been – he already held the most fragile, tender part of her; she had nothing left to lose. He cradled it carefully, perhaps too much so – he was absent, often, not wanting to worry or upset her by the tinge of jealousy still lingering in his gaze when his vision came across the distant silhouette of her former lover – but she did not blame him.
She, too, would be jealous if she were him – she wanted him for her own; she understood he wanted the same.
My love, he muses, and she is in awe of it. There are fleeting moments in time in which she is doubtful that the life she is living is reality at all – the way her heartbeat flutters when he is near, and the way she yearns to be closer to him, to be a part of him, is unlike anything she had ever felt before. Surely it was too good to be true; surely it would come to an end – all things inevitably do. She would not dwell upon the possibility of loss and heartbreak again, especially not as the rousing life created by their passionate tryst stirred inside of her, reminding her of its presence.
A soft chuckle emerges from her parted lips, as her hazel gaze searches for his own, while her muzzle brushes across his forehead – sweeping a stray lock of flaxen hair away from his soulful eyes. He is alight with humor, but there is a shadow of an apology following it closely. She does not expect him to be anything more than what he is, or who he is – but his vow to be better, to push himself outside of the parameter of which he has become so comfortable within is more than enough to satisfy her.
”You haven’t, but neither have I,” she murmurs softly above the distant rumble of the waking volcano, as her lips brush over his own, tasting the sweet remnants of flora and honeydew lingering on his own. ”perhaps we both need to move toward becoming better than we are.”
Ah, and a shadow of a smile is coyly hidden in her gaze, alight within the golden flecks.
”I’m pregnant, Ledger – you’re going to be a father.”
There is an airiness within his tone, laced with humor, and it stirs a faint smile at the corner of her pale mouth. Not many had the ability to draw it out of her, but she could hardly suppress it when beside him. She felt no need to hide it away, nor any reason to remain so still or so stoic. She had already given him her heart, and she had made herself as vulnerable as she had ever been – he already held the most fragile, tender part of her; she had nothing left to lose. He cradled it carefully, perhaps too much so – he was absent, often, not wanting to worry or upset her by the tinge of jealousy still lingering in his gaze when his vision came across the distant silhouette of her former lover – but she did not blame him.
She, too, would be jealous if she were him – she wanted him for her own; she understood he wanted the same.
My love, he muses, and she is in awe of it. There are fleeting moments in time in which she is doubtful that the life she is living is reality at all – the way her heartbeat flutters when he is near, and the way she yearns to be closer to him, to be a part of him, is unlike anything she had ever felt before. Surely it was too good to be true; surely it would come to an end – all things inevitably do. She would not dwell upon the possibility of loss and heartbreak again, especially not as the rousing life created by their passionate tryst stirred inside of her, reminding her of its presence.
A soft chuckle emerges from her parted lips, as her hazel gaze searches for his own, while her muzzle brushes across his forehead – sweeping a stray lock of flaxen hair away from his soulful eyes. He is alight with humor, but there is a shadow of an apology following it closely. She does not expect him to be anything more than what he is, or who he is – but his vow to be better, to push himself outside of the parameter of which he has become so comfortable within is more than enough to satisfy her.
”You haven’t, but neither have I,” she murmurs softly above the distant rumble of the waking volcano, as her lips brush over his own, tasting the sweet remnants of flora and honeydew lingering on his own. ”perhaps we both need to move toward becoming better than we are.”
Ah, and a shadow of a smile is coyly hidden in her gaze, alight within the golden flecks.
”I’m pregnant, Ledger – you’re going to be a father.”
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone;
you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.
you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.
@[Ledger]