all the weight of my intentions; magnus

[magnus]

I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound

He had no idea when he first met her—truly met her—that she would be the one to claim his heart.

He had no idea when they stood side by side staring at the ocean as it beat against the cliffs of Tephra that she would be the one to breathe life back into his lungs, remind him of all the beauty it has has to offer outside of work and responsibility and the sacrifices he willingly makes again and again for the crown.

But she is—she is.

Curled around and into her now, feeling the roots of them beginning to tangle around one another and grow deep into this volcanic soil, he wonders if it could have ever been someone different. If he could have ever loved someone like he loves her. The wildness in her heart and the wariness in her eyes and that fierce strength that he doesn’t even think that she recognizes that she has blossoming in her veins.

He wants it all, loves it all, cherishes it all.

He crushes her to him and feels the pulse of his heart in his throat, surrounded by the scent that is so uniquely her own. She tells him that he isn’t broken and he has to close his eyes because he has spent so long telling himself that he is—has spent so long making excuses for it, for learning how to accept it, for ignoring the ache in his gut when he thought of the jagged pieces of himself. But she tells him that he isn’t broken, and he believes her. For the first time, he believes that he is not truly broken.

“Thank you,” he whispers into the wild curls of her hair, into her poll, against her cheek. “Thank you.” He wants to say more—he wants to find some way to take what exists in his heart and put it into words, but he knows he doesn’t have to because she already sees it. She already feels it and it surges in his chest.

So he just pulls back and that same mischievous glint appears in his eyes as he stares at her and as he nips at the silken skin at the corner of her mouth. “What do you think about a few kids?”

His laugh is low and deep.

“Because I’m thinking one isn’t enough.”

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine