THE SKY DRIFTS DARK AND DROWSY, POURS INK AND OBLIVION. it hums, it sighs; the air ripples with lullabies. stars like timid jewels peer out from between ink-soaked clouds, and the moon smiles close and silver. fhirdiad slumbers gently, deeply, cupped inside a vaulted dream. outside, the cold strolls about undisturbed, glides up and down empty streets with no one but the wind for company. somewhere softer, locked edge to edge, brimful and breathless, new lovers trade vows and invent eternity.
‘ you’ll stay and be mine always? ’ his thumb traces the slope of her spine, once, twice, curious, memorising every bump and note, wrung and exhausted but stubborn with want, dizzy at the memory of her mouth. he has learned her smell, her taste, has unearthed the sounds she can make — sounds he drank from her mouth, struck, speared, in fevered gulps. her breaths fan out across his collarbone and he blinks into the dark, heart whirring, squeezing, his adam’s apple bobbing harshly. he fills his lungs; her ribs tremble under his fingertips. he leans down; her teeth tug at his seams. he opens his mouth, and she takes his offering, sinks her fingers into his hair and allows him this surrender.
‘ byleth — byleth, byleth, byleth. ’ his voice glides over her name like a caress; they share what little air is left, tangled, chest to chest, laughing and chasing each other’s mouths, her delight calling the sun down into him. he presses a kiss to her upper lipper, moves north to the bridge of her nose, lingers on her brow, awed and near delirious. something giddy and babbling and sparkling rivers in his veins; she harbours in him, sets her roots where no other can enter. he is glad of the dark, the way it hides them, the secret it makes of them. theirs is a world of two, dislocated from time.
‘ can you hear it? ’ he whispers to her in a new language, sweet and silken — raining an abandon that will, one day, tempt tragedy. invites her to the red-hot poetry of his heart, the wet metre, the lilting longing. she smiles and he expels a shaky breath, sweat-sheened and tender, marvelling at her, at the symmetry of them. her hands map a trail to his chest and leave their shape on him, and he wants her there, tucked inside him, wants her long and deep, rushing and tunneling, spilling into every corner of him. a dimpled, buoyant smile captures his lips; now and here and tomorrow and past time, his heart knocks and drums for her, tosses wildly for just a glimpse of her swollen mouth, the white curve of her ribs, the milky valley where neck and shoulder meet. ‘ can you hear it? it’s you. it’s all you. ’
@fellstrs sad: ‘ i sad yes because you asked me to stay. ’
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