WORDLESS & EXPRESSIONLESS, does she meet the one she adores with all of her heart. It is a night, she is rarely quiet. Part of her, feels the want for comfort, for love. A different kind of love, not just being locked in one another’s arms, no, she wants something much more than that. However, it is not voiced. & in a way, it’s a sure way for him to know, something is wrong. In which case, his arms would automatically wrap around her & pull her close. But tonight is a night she doesn’t want that. She has another idea locked at the back of her mind. ( & she plans on succeeding with such idea. )
SHE HAD ALWAYS been the spark to their storms. Always starting what would soon lead to their love. It began to be something she’s gotten used to since getting married, something, she hardly minds. But tonight wasn’t a night to be filled with such intimacy, only a different kind. & as she sits herself atop his lap, both knees at the side of his, she locks her eyes with his. There’s no sparkle in hers, there’s only tears, that she’s fighting so hard to hold back. But why? There had been thoughts, & thoughts, all throughout the day, of the past. The past that scared her, the past that scarred her. & there had been a time when she had fallen asleep, alone in her stress, to where a nightmare had plagued her only getaway from her thoughts. Such a dream, such a nightmare she feared would come true, because she knows there’s always a possibility to such a happening;
& That’s a nightmare, where he didn’t come home again.
SO SHE HAD BEEN OFF when he did come home, afraid to speak her mind. She knows, she shouldn’t be to her own husband. But there’s easier ways to tell him SHE’S SCARED, than to tell him vocally. They’re both still healing. Healing from the nightmare they were all forced to live in. He himself is still hardly rid of the demons that took over his mind while she was away. But the healing they must do is together. ( It was written in their vows, after all. )
SO A HAND brushes against his cheek softly, before they trail down to rest against his chest. Her body leans down slowly, before her soft lips press against his own. This would be how she’d let him know of her emotions, her fears, her worries. As her love spoke louder than her words.
Silence hung in their ambiance, not comfortable, howbeit, not yet awkward, either. Since he had stepped through the door into their residence, amidst the sweet aroma of vanilla and lilacs, there had been an unsettling air that hung about the room, leaving the hairs on his back standing up and a disquieting chill sinking in his bones.
Glacial hues had found their way to rest upon the small frame of his wife, who sat upon the sofa in the lounge; hair falling forward, veiling her countenance. Perturbation was present, weighing on his shoulders and he had crossed the distance between them, his foot steps audible against the floorboards; each step that creaked seemed deafening compared to the silence. “Babe--?” He spoke, barely above a whisper.
Sitting beside her, the cushions of the sofa dipping under his weight, an appendage reached forward to tuck stray rose-colored strands behind her ear, away from her face so his gaze could linger on her breathtaking porcelain features. “Serah, what’s wrong?” Solicitude twisted his features as he continued to abide for a response, but she never spoke. Head had shaken slightly as an inaudible response, but in spite of his worry, the blond didn’t push. She would come to him in her own time, as she always did (albeit, sometimes, a little or nudge or two was needed).
They had remained reticent for many moments--the time that passed, irrelevant, as her sat back against the couch, waiting for her to come to him--until eventually she moved. He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath until he felt his exile.
Surprise took place of his worry as she moved to straddle him, albeit, it quickly turned to affliction. Her beautiful visage--so stunning, never failing to captivate his attention--was tainted with sorrow. Pallid digits reached upwards to caress the smooth surface of her skin; index finger catching a single tear that managed to escape from her cerulean hues. In that moment, her eyes were no longer crystallized orbs, but the depths of an ocean.
He could feel his own heart ache at the sight of her anguish. He swore--once upon a time, in a world that no longer existed, he made a vowel, one he intended to keep. Although every word she wanted to say needed no voice, it still pained him to see that those scars had yet to heal. Albeit understandable, it still tormented him to see he could not take that pain from her.
As she leaned in and her lips pressed against his; so soft, almost lingering against his own more than a kiss, he understood what it was she needed of him; what she was asking.
Fingers entangled themselves in her pink locks as he pulled her closer and held her against him; lips exploring hers for the millionth time--each kiss sweeter than the last.
