My mother was wrong, and I'd quite expect her right now to be rolling in her grave, china white skull grimacing. The thought plagues me with chills, but the warm smile that tainted my velvet lips, brought on by this embrace, this tender moment, was not as fleeting. My mother had said, quite possibly in the heat of the argument, after my hooves had been tainted with my father's blood, she had callously attacked me with words, and to a daughter, your mother's words were gospel, the very essence of being. Your mother told you she loved you, you did not question it. She told you that you would never find any happiness, so long that your on this earth, you have a tendency to believe it. Thus I did, wandering the lands before falling across Beqanna and meeting Straia. I had resigned myself to that thought, that my heart would not beat in time with another's. That my soul would spend an eternity unattached, lost and cold somewhere in my golden frame.
Ah, but she was wrong, is wrong. This feeling it burns in my chest, a raging inferno with fire-kissed fingers, plucking and pulling, forcing me to show my hand. Not many had seen my pain, my inner sorrow that had marred my bones and stripped me of my beauty. Not even my mother had seen my mask crack. No one ever had the privilege, the attention to even allow me to lower my defence. Oh, but he has. Killdare, my earthy prince, eyes as green as the moss that grew from the chamber floor. A face as rough and rugged as a diamond, unpolished and unearthed from the core of the earth. His muzzle nears mine and I feel each and every one of his breaths coil and intertwine with my own. Our lungs are in sync, our hearts matching the steady rhythm.
He said nothing about my missing facade; my tearstained face had cracked, and like the monuments of angels concealed in graveyard, away from prying eyes, I had silently wept. And he, he found me and did not judge. Instead, he is here, heart beating life, breath breathing intense fire into my skin, electrifying frozen bones and revitalising a deadened heart. Oh, it is a beautiful moment, and I swallow it with every breath. My mind engraving it within memory. I'm still sure this is but a dream, a fanciful thought that has flawed my senses. But I still quiver against his touch, my skin peppered with gooseflesh, every time his breath touches me, his muzzle pressed against my own. I stayed there, in the nightly silence, only our hearts matching Atrox's beneath, and even then, even then I did not notice the Chamber's stolen heart at all.
'A woman once told me that I would never have this.'
'Unless I am dreaming this.' the doubt comes then, a slippery shadow that threatens to burden this glorious feeling. But I shake my head, a crooked smile twisting upon my lips.'Ah, but I do not sleep, so that is a lie. This is real... isn't it?'
OOC: The feels! xD EngelDare Haha.