01-17-2022, 12:30 AM
lend me your hand and we’ll conquer them all --
He finds himself going incredibly still when she reaches for him, holding a breath inside his lungs and willing his heart to stop beating lest the steady thrum startles her back into the moonlight she had seemingly come from. His jaw tightens as he resists the urge to reach for her in return, but instead his gaze only holds fast to hers as he remains rooted to where he stands, nearly statuesque save for the silver strands of mane that ripple in the evening breeze.
She pulls away, and though there is a flicker of what might be disappointment in his eyes it is easily shielded by the natural darkness of them, and the way that his features always tended to be a little too stoic. He is not sure where he had learned that from, the art of keeping himself locked away, but it was a thing he had perfected over the years, and all the time in his self-inflicted solitude had done nothing to weaken it.
Despite it, he has never been able to entirely hide his fascination with her; she was ethereal and enigmatic without trying to be. He longs to ask her what she means by the places she can see but cannot feel, but somehow the question feels too personal, as if he is asking her to share her dreams. It wasn’t as if they had ever really known each other, even back then.
Neither of them were the type to lay themselves bare, but he would be a fool to pretend that he would not tell her absolutely anything she ever wanted to know.
“I’m hardly an angel,” he tells her with an amused quirk of his lip. “But sometimes I feel like I could be a ghost.” Forgotten. Mostly invisible. The world constantly moving and turning despite the way he seems to stay in one spot.
“I have been here,” his eyes once more sweep their surroundings, taking in the familiar hills and the silhouette of trees that scrape at a star-dusted sky. “They don’t let things like me into heaven,” he says with another short laugh. He doesn’t mean that he is bad—all things considered, he has never brought harm to anyone, as far as he knows. But he is nothing special. Nothing extraordinary. The thought of someone like him existing in a place so clearly designed for someone like her was unfathomable. “I think just Time stole the darkness.”
The clouds begin to stir up above, weakening the moonlight and shrouding the two of them in a silk-like dark. To him, it feels like a warning—like without the moonlight and the stars she is going to disappear back to whatever celestial world she had come from, and his time with her was growing limited. “Are you going to stay?”
He finds himself going incredibly still when she reaches for him, holding a breath inside his lungs and willing his heart to stop beating lest the steady thrum startles her back into the moonlight she had seemingly come from. His jaw tightens as he resists the urge to reach for her in return, but instead his gaze only holds fast to hers as he remains rooted to where he stands, nearly statuesque save for the silver strands of mane that ripple in the evening breeze.
She pulls away, and though there is a flicker of what might be disappointment in his eyes it is easily shielded by the natural darkness of them, and the way that his features always tended to be a little too stoic. He is not sure where he had learned that from, the art of keeping himself locked away, but it was a thing he had perfected over the years, and all the time in his self-inflicted solitude had done nothing to weaken it.
Despite it, he has never been able to entirely hide his fascination with her; she was ethereal and enigmatic without trying to be. He longs to ask her what she means by the places she can see but cannot feel, but somehow the question feels too personal, as if he is asking her to share her dreams. It wasn’t as if they had ever really known each other, even back then.
Neither of them were the type to lay themselves bare, but he would be a fool to pretend that he would not tell her absolutely anything she ever wanted to know.
“I’m hardly an angel,” he tells her with an amused quirk of his lip. “But sometimes I feel like I could be a ghost.” Forgotten. Mostly invisible. The world constantly moving and turning despite the way he seems to stay in one spot.
“I have been here,” his eyes once more sweep their surroundings, taking in the familiar hills and the silhouette of trees that scrape at a star-dusted sky. “They don’t let things like me into heaven,” he says with another short laugh. He doesn’t mean that he is bad—all things considered, he has never brought harm to anyone, as far as he knows. But he is nothing special. Nothing extraordinary. The thought of someone like him existing in a place so clearly designed for someone like her was unfathomable. “I think just Time stole the darkness.”
The clouds begin to stir up above, weakening the moonlight and shrouding the two of them in a silk-like dark. To him, it feels like a warning—like without the moonlight and the stars she is going to disappear back to whatever celestial world she had come from, and his time with her was growing limited. “Are you going to stay?”
-- but lend me your heart and i’ll just let you fall
eadoin.
@Ethenia