02-15-2020, 11:37 PM
she wanted what every young heart wanted —
for something beautiful to find her beautiful.
for something beautiful to find her beautiful.
She doesn’t realize yet what a dangerous, turbulent situation she is getting herself into. She cannot possibly fathom the nearly endless depths of this man’s history, and she doesn’t know how incredibly twisted and tangled it was with her mother’s. She doesn’t realize that by so freely displaying her heart for him to see that she is setting herself up to get it broken. But even if she did know, would it change anything? If she knew that he had already loved others, that his life had been so full of enough trials and tribulations to fill a lifetime, would it keep her away?
She knows it wouldn’t.
She wants to argue with him when he says he doesn’t think he’s welcome in Sylva; wants to tell him that it isn’t true, that her mother was just angry for some unknown reason but that Lilt is sure she would get over it. But she doesn’t say any of that, because she knows it’s a lie. Her mother was impossibly stubborn and proud, and if she had decided to make things difficult there would be no changing her mind.
Instead of saying anything she reaches forward to gently touch her dark muzzle against his pale cheek, her lips brushing against his skin. She tries to ignore the warm, tingling sensation that spreads from where she touches him with her lips and how it seems to slip past her ribs and settle there, like the beginnings of an ember that longed to ignite. She withdraws, though, the sorrow still so plain in her sterling eyes, so much so that it lingers in the small smile she offers him when she nods in agreement. “Okay,” she says softly, and she gestures towards a path that leads the opposite direction from where Starsin had disappeared to, waiting for him to fall into step beside her.
She guides him a short distance through the trees, the moonlight filtering through the leaves to further illuminate the faint glow of her roaning, and glinting off the spiral of her horn. She keeps her wings tucked close to her sides, because every time she accidentally touched him it felt like a shock straight to her heart, and she still didn’t know how to handle a feeling like that. She didn’t know how to deal with the fact that she wanted to know everything about him while simultaneously not wanting to hear what he had to say about her mother, because though she is young and naive it did not change that instinctual ability to feel when you were about hear something you didn’t want to. There is already a part of her that wants to rewind time, to go back to the mountain when she was just a girl and he was just a lion, and there were no words and no anger and no hurt.
In a small clearing she comes to a stop. Here, the trees are tall and set far apart, but their branches stretched and overlapped until the sky above was nearly hidden, offering a shadowed kind of intimacy. She turns to look at him in the dim light, her skin flushing hot and cold with anticipation and anxiety, but her voice is steady and soft when she says to him, “Tell me everything.” From anyone else, those words might have sounded like a demand. But coming from her, with eyes that were both sad and sweet, searching his face in the dark, it was just a hopeful request.
She knows it wouldn’t.
She wants to argue with him when he says he doesn’t think he’s welcome in Sylva; wants to tell him that it isn’t true, that her mother was just angry for some unknown reason but that Lilt is sure she would get over it. But she doesn’t say any of that, because she knows it’s a lie. Her mother was impossibly stubborn and proud, and if she had decided to make things difficult there would be no changing her mind.
Instead of saying anything she reaches forward to gently touch her dark muzzle against his pale cheek, her lips brushing against his skin. She tries to ignore the warm, tingling sensation that spreads from where she touches him with her lips and how it seems to slip past her ribs and settle there, like the beginnings of an ember that longed to ignite. She withdraws, though, the sorrow still so plain in her sterling eyes, so much so that it lingers in the small smile she offers him when she nods in agreement. “Okay,” she says softly, and she gestures towards a path that leads the opposite direction from where Starsin had disappeared to, waiting for him to fall into step beside her.
She guides him a short distance through the trees, the moonlight filtering through the leaves to further illuminate the faint glow of her roaning, and glinting off the spiral of her horn. She keeps her wings tucked close to her sides, because every time she accidentally touched him it felt like a shock straight to her heart, and she still didn’t know how to handle a feeling like that. She didn’t know how to deal with the fact that she wanted to know everything about him while simultaneously not wanting to hear what he had to say about her mother, because though she is young and naive it did not change that instinctual ability to feel when you were about hear something you didn’t want to. There is already a part of her that wants to rewind time, to go back to the mountain when she was just a girl and he was just a lion, and there were no words and no anger and no hurt.
In a small clearing she comes to a stop. Here, the trees are tall and set far apart, but their branches stretched and overlapped until the sky above was nearly hidden, offering a shadowed kind of intimacy. She turns to look at him in the dim light, her skin flushing hot and cold with anticipation and anxiety, but her voice is steady and soft when she says to him, “Tell me everything.” From anyone else, those words might have sounded like a demand. But coming from her, with eyes that were both sad and sweet, searching his face in the dark, it was just a hopeful request.
l i l t
