you could break my heart in two, but when it heals, it beats for you
She remembers again the winteryness of the day and the frost-rimed barren hills on which they stand. Colder now for the sweat drying on her skin and the fleeting worry that he will suggest something much slower, sending her on her way with a goodbye that would only leave her preoccupied and then sleepless in the night ahead. Even in her reluctant to leave she might end up making a mess of things, going too far when it becomes hard to say goodbye. For all the months that have passed since their first meeting she has tried not to think of how another encounter would go and now that they are here she finds that she does not know what might break the spell.
Brigade’s whispered request is a welcome command to her anxious heart and the chestnut smiles again at the laughter in his voice. Her lips press below his ear, brief and soft. “I’ll stay.” As though it were not her idea in the first place, an attempt at making this last at least until the waking hours of morning. So that the world cannot try to tear them apart in the hours in between and her life cannot show her how he eclipses and drowns out everything for her.
“Take me there.” Her reply is eager and soft and and her hind hooves shift in a half pivot, light ever ribboning over her sides when she moves. “Ask me anything.” Though her stomach tumbles when she says it, though only for a moment. Litotes is far away, further still than Hyaline with his Queen and his menagerie of snowflake featured children and she was never going to wait in her mountains with all that she is tied up in him alone. Ever. This feels different than all the other entanglements but it doesn’t change who she is and has always been.
All the unspent tension of earlier puts a heaviness in her limbs that she wants to run out of them but she lets Brigade lead instead of pushing him. She is given to do that she knows, pressing in until she gets her way. Too if they run she will have less time to ask her own questions, to know him as he is now, calmed and open to her and she might find herself lost to the heat of a flight and therefore less interested in conversation than the perfect angles of his wine colored body. And she wants to know him, and see this part of him as much if not more than she wants his violent desire. Reining herself in she places herself beside him so that he may lead her, though she cannot help arranging a feather or two that lies within her reach. “Were you born with wings, Brigade?” It may be an odd question to ask, especially if he has always lived in this magic saturated place. “I was born very plain, so I always wonder.” Kensa does not say this sheepishly, she was happy to be the rough-cut-pretty, ordinary filly she had been when she arrived. She does not need all this beauty to be herself, though it has changed her in unexpected ways.
Kensa
@[brigade]
