Carina knew how improper it would be to slip into the night with someone she barely knew anything about, it would even be considered scandalous if it had been with her fiancée. Despite knowing this, she could feel herself nod as a final confirmation. She wanted to be with her rugged hero, who had saved her the day of the rebellion. She was done being afraid, she had blossomed since meeting him. She had become bolder, more daring. He had inspired something in her, pushing her to break some ties to who society wanted her to be and dare to be herself. She had started to think about what she wanted, not what she needed to do. She wanted to be with him if only for a night. Every moment in his presence seemed to be a gift, one she cherished and desperately wanted to hold onto.
“Then take me away from here, just let me be free for one night,” she said softly while her hand went in search of his. The memory of their hands touching was still clear in her mind, she still remembered the rush of warmth which had flowed through her. When she found his hand in the twilight, nothing had changed about how she felt. She held more affection for him now, having gotten to know him better. She had come to understand this man held darkness, but all she saw was beauty and the lure of an untameable heart. “Show me your world and let us leave mine.” Her world consisted of rules, of gossip and arranged marriages. She wanted to know more of his and less of hers.
What truly is it? What defines courtesy? It is so much and yet, so little, too; it is her world’s way of grasping a soul, pinning down its nature to meaningless mannerisms and etiquette, disfiguring that shred of existence. What is it that is too demanded of us? In her? They were were above common courtesies. It was a difficult thing to request of her, yet to bare witness of such a rare sight - it was something he would remember and think upon for days to come till the small sanity he had left would flee with it - like an eagle with its prey, snuffing the life out of it. Like himself for that matter, who had grown so weary and jaded of such trivial subjects and mannerisms. He was tip toeing around her - dancing between relativity and ambiguity; between a black and white that held no middle ground. And yet, together they moved with an ease of a lifetime’s experience of which with one another they thoroughly lacked - and yet, one might have believed they’d been present in one another’s lives for eons - a cyclical paradigm. “I hope to prove a rather riveting companion,” he drawls, smitten, but allowing nothing of it to pass in his face beyond the sly smile on his lips (he could read what it meant in her eyes, though, but feel the swell in her chest rising in his own).
For once Tobias feels there is a sense of surprise in the air as he silently mused that she would realize it too behind the act; that life had meaning beyond repetitive patterns and that there’s a sense of purpose that gets clearer with each exchange, each touch that invites him in— - to sleep inside her bones within all that warmth of hers. He grips Carina's hand, cupping it in his own as if it were a fragile bird, before crushing and extinguishing it with a slight squeeze - his smile saying: caution, begone; revelry, rejoice! Tobias let her hand fall to her side as his own rested on the back of her skull, getting used to the softness of it as he gets used to the feeling -- her hair feels as smooth and soft as calm water; but she is slipping out of his hands to fall into another’s -- a gesture meant to ease the uneasiness she could feel. Tobias cannot help but think at how similar the color is to his own.
Tobias does not leave himself wanting as his upper lip traces over the softness of her cheek and how his body loses space against Carina’s. His fingers sift through her long tresses and he kisses her temple, letting his own cheek rest against her own. “I will see you soon, then?"
