01-17-2021, 11:36 PM
stifled the choice and the air in my lungs;
better not to breathe than to breathe a lie
Her touch leaves a trail of heat that feels like a wildfire on his skin. Tiercel is burning under the low simmer of her pale nose, and this sensation drives the rest of his fatigue from his bones. Just like Islas, he is surprised at the way her touch awakens him. He has seen girls before, watching the way they move and laugh, but he hadn’t touched one until Islas. While he had been nervous at first, their mouths and bodies find each other now as if they have been together for a long time. He can’t say he’s wholly memorized the angles and curves of her body, but Tiercel knows she feels familiar to him.
He feels both alive and tranquil while she rests beside him. “I don’t mind it here, actually,” he admits quietly. Tiercel had wondered if staying in Loess too long would bring back memories he has tried to forget. He had come here for reasons he couldn’t entirely untangle, and the irony is not lost on him that his first child might grow up among the red rock as well. While he might’ve left if it weren’t for Islas, he doesn’t regret the amount of time he has spent here. With the darkness, it feels like one of the safest places in Beqanna. “I’m happy here with you.”
Islas admits to being okay, yet worry still eats away at the dun-and-navy stallion. Again, his thoughts turn toward the absence of the stars. Islas’s face against his neck is comforting, but he can’t help but wonder if she feels tired beyond what is normal for pregnancy. Tiercel’s pale eyes turn toward the yawning mouth of the cave while his mind questions if the endless swathe of darkness is contributing to the softer glow of his fallen star. Does she feel as weary and fading as he perceives her to be?
His gaze quickly returns to her when she mentions their child. Her comment brings a swift smile to his normally stoic face. It also makes him nervous, the potential that their child may inherit the ocean of emotions that roil within him. Tiercel isn’t as good of an emotion-wielder as his mother had been, and he is sure he will never reach that level of skill, but he hopes he knows enough to teach his child. “The little one is already practicing,” he says with another, softer smile.
Tiercel pauses from kissing her skin, but he keeps his dark navy muzzle close to her while he shifts to trace a path to her swollen side. He blows a soft, warm breath across the rising curvature of Islas’s ivory belly. “Be gentle to your mother, little one. She is taking good care of you.” Love, an emotion that is perhaps the most fickle for Tiercel, swells in his chest and gently washes over the pair — no, the three — of them. The man presses a kiss into Islas’s side before moving back toward her face. “I should take better care of you,” he admits. She is fading, and he cannot merely watch it happen. “I’m going to find the stars for you, Islas.”
He feels both alive and tranquil while she rests beside him. “I don’t mind it here, actually,” he admits quietly. Tiercel had wondered if staying in Loess too long would bring back memories he has tried to forget. He had come here for reasons he couldn’t entirely untangle, and the irony is not lost on him that his first child might grow up among the red rock as well. While he might’ve left if it weren’t for Islas, he doesn’t regret the amount of time he has spent here. With the darkness, it feels like one of the safest places in Beqanna. “I’m happy here with you.”
Islas admits to being okay, yet worry still eats away at the dun-and-navy stallion. Again, his thoughts turn toward the absence of the stars. Islas’s face against his neck is comforting, but he can’t help but wonder if she feels tired beyond what is normal for pregnancy. Tiercel’s pale eyes turn toward the yawning mouth of the cave while his mind questions if the endless swathe of darkness is contributing to the softer glow of his fallen star. Does she feel as weary and fading as he perceives her to be?
His gaze quickly returns to her when she mentions their child. Her comment brings a swift smile to his normally stoic face. It also makes him nervous, the potential that their child may inherit the ocean of emotions that roil within him. Tiercel isn’t as good of an emotion-wielder as his mother had been, and he is sure he will never reach that level of skill, but he hopes he knows enough to teach his child. “The little one is already practicing,” he says with another, softer smile.
Tiercel pauses from kissing her skin, but he keeps his dark navy muzzle close to her while he shifts to trace a path to her swollen side. He blows a soft, warm breath across the rising curvature of Islas’s ivory belly. “Be gentle to your mother, little one. She is taking good care of you.” Love, an emotion that is perhaps the most fickle for Tiercel, swells in his chest and gently washes over the pair — no, the three — of them. The man presses a kiss into Islas’s side before moving back toward her face. “I should take better care of you,” he admits. She is fading, and he cannot merely watch it happen. “I’m going to find the stars for you, Islas.”
tiercel.
@[Islas]