Dec 6, 2015
( @heraldofdales )
“I have rarely seen such dexterity; how long have you practiced?”
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seen from Malaysia
( @heraldofdales )
“I have rarely seen such dexterity; how long have you practiced?”
Kiss!
@heraldofdales
Send me ‘Kiss’ and my muse will kiss yours somewhere according to their feelings for your muse!
He leans in, fingertips ghosting up her arms. She’s pressed against the wall, flattened under him, staring up with those big, curious eyes. Those eyes will be the death of him.
He grips her forearms and leans in, his nose brushes hers. His lips are less than a hair’s breadth away. He can feel her breath on his lips. He can hear her pulse in his ears, pounding like a drum, keeping percussive time with his own.
His lips do not touch hers. He steps away and turns down the hall as fast as his legs can carry him.
"No more tears."
Sometimes the loneliness that Solas is left with at night is unbearable. When the castle is dark and sleep eludes him he’s left at his desk with only his books to distract him. His hands shake so badly he can’t paint, and it’s all he can do to try and read fast enough to outrun the thoughts that linger at the edges of his mind.
Some nights, he can’t outrun them. Head hung, tears dripping off his nose, his shoulders shake with quiet, stifled sobs as he covers his face with both hands. He tries to be as quiet as possible, but he stays in a giant stone cylinder, and even his quiet sobs are amplified with echoes and fill his ears, deafening him to the sound of approaching foot steps.