> reposted from my personal blog: @i-wish-i-was-consistent
You can't help but be slightly jealous of Asra.
He was beautiful. His hair the colour of starlight and violet eyes that hold so many secretsβ and he looked even more so as he lay beside you with his arm around your waist, looking at you as though you were the one who spun his world around.
You were staring, unshamefully so.
"Like what you see?" he teased, his lips quirking upwards as they always did.
"I could ask you the same thing,"
He chuckles, making his dimples show (you have to suppress the urge to poke them). "I do actually. A lot more than I think you realize."
A large statement considering how much he compliments you. But you know that if you said so, he would insist that "there weren't enough hours in a day to tell you how much he loves you".
Silence ensues after a short while. It always did when it was just you and him, but you didn't mind. It was comfortable, domestic, calmingβ a break from everything that made life go by so quickly.
"Can I have your hand?" Not a particularly strange request coming from him, so you don't think anything of it as he gently takes your hand onto his, turning it so your palm is facing upwards.
You feel the tip of his finger gently dragging across your palm, following the lines etched onto it. You glance at him and see his eyebrows furrowed and a frown painting his lipsβ an expression of mock concentration.
"It's saying we'll have many nights like this, cuddling before we fall asleep in each other's arms."
You know at once he's making this up. Your lover has many talents, especially in the magical field, but palm-reading is not one of them (but you're sure he could if he studied).
But you decide to play along.
"What else do my palms say?"
You see him smile, the concentrated look on his face replaced with the usual mischievous glint in his eyes and a teasing grin. He knows what you're doing.
"It says we're going to love each other until our souls part," he mutters quietly. He lifts your hand and kisses them, before going back to his original position and placing his hand on your hipβ rubbing comforting circles as he waits for you to answer.
"How many years is that?"
He leans in and pecks the corner of your mouth before he replies, his eyes go soft as he continues to stare at youβ like you were the one who hung the moon and stars in the night sky.
You finally drop your little act. "Is that true?"
Again, he takes his time before answeringβ choosing to press another kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another on your cheek. He continues to pepper your face with kisses before you finally feel his plush lips against yours.
Asra has always smelled like herbs, flowers and something else that can only be described as magicalβ and it's engulfing you like it would a thick blanket.
He squeezes your hip affectionately as he presses his lips onto yours harder. The kiss is desperate and wantingβ yet always, always gentle. He kisses you like you'll disappear into his dreams if he so much as blinks.
All too soon, he pulls away. He's still beautiful, maybe even more so with slightly swollen lips and flushed cheeksβ his chest heaves with deep breaths from lack of air and you can't help but feel a sense of pride knowing you're the one who made him look like this.
He cradles your face with gentle hands before finally answering.
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