mcjesty:
The curve of her waist, matched with the brilliance of her smile would be enough to knock any man off his feet and Maksym was indeed afraid heād stumble or make a fool of himself further in front of his future wife. When she spoke her voice flowed over him like the gentle breeze through the mountains of home, and he realized it then that she felt familiar. Not in a way that would be deemed inappropriate but when she took his hand in hers it was the silkiness of her skin matched against the roughness of his, pure beauty pressed to ruined shine, he was breathless as they began to move.
A loss for words as he lost himself in his mind, eyes on her hair, her face, her hands. She spoke first and he let it wash over him again, he let himself begin to build a home within her ribcage, beneath the boning of her corset and the fabric of her dress. She elicited much from him in such a short time, it felt miraculous to fit so well within another, a stranger. He thought heād felt this before, and perhaps when he was a younger man he loved many women, but this felt foreign and yet familiar.Ā
āMy mother, she was quite insistent I know not just how to swing a sword on a battlefield but how to avoid crushing the toes of my partners Ā on the dance floor.ā He smiled at the memory of her words. His mother lived still, but sheād had no desire to rule in her husbands absence, though she remained one of his most trusted advisors when he took the throne. He began to drift away then, to wonder if sheād like Anja, if sheād approve of the grace he held beneath his palms.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā he held her like she was porcelain;; precious, beautiful, breakable. something inside her wanted to tell him that there was blood between her teeth ā that there was something metallic and unholy resting at the base of her throat. but the music the swelled around her and she was but a petal;; his touch on the curve of her waist like SPRINGĀ even through the fabric of her dress. there was a spot just under his thumb that was starting to feel like home and her breath was caught in her throat for a moment. the feeling was all too new and unfamiliar, though she found herself quite comfortable in his arms. they moved together, melting and spilling like two twin sunsets, one feeding into the other, unintelligible and perfectly in sync. they were floating, gliding across the dance floor, twirling and twisting in time to the music, never too far out of step.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā he was dashing. his eyes were painted the same blue as the sky the mountains touched at home;; speckled with whipped clouds and gentle sunlight, grazed by snow capped peaks higher than any man could ever climb. there was something kind behind them, something homely and familiar. there was a soft pout to pink lips, a subtle cupidās bow her eyes spent too long lingering on.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āa smart woman,ā anja said, matching his smile. her own mother had not been the one to teach her to dance, though her father insisted on it. she absently thought of how much she would like the king. he was kind, humble, traditional. her mother wouldāve no doubt married her off sooner, but much less abruptly. her face fell a bit, but she forced the edges of her smile up.Ā āyouāre a lovely dancer, i might add. i havenāt yet suffered any broken toes, but the night is young.ā
