@hvrtgold SENT : [ INTERTWINE ] My muse laces their fingers with yours . from Edward to Beatrice / NON SEXUAL ACTS OF AFFECTION.
She liked the way he felt, the smoothness of his skin, the coolness too. The tip of her middle finger traced soft lines up and down the back of his hand, following the veins that were frozen in time, the ridges of bones that could not break. He was immune to her. The same way she could not catch a common cold, the same way she did not seem to be able to die -- perhaps because she was death. But now he was immune to her the same way she was immune to herself, and she could touch him like this as much as she liked, as much as he allowed. She could sigh, could laugh, could sing in his presence without worrying what effect her breath would have on him. It was freeing, it was delightful. It made years of emptiness seem very far away.
Even if this did not last, even if it was just for right now, she felt that that could be enough.
She watched the way the pale, marble texture of his hand flickered under the streetlight mixed with starlight -- hiding from the sun was not natural to her, she who needed its light and warmth to feel herself, but he could not step out into the sun the way she could. And so she allowed herself to take up the guise of a night owl on occasions like this, if only so they could go out into the world undetected. She rather liked the park at night, and to have company in it, they way she had back when they first met. But as he turned his hand over beneath hers and captured the spaces between her fingers, it was markedly different. She shivered, but remained pressed in against his arm, refusing the warmth of the night air in exchange for her proximity to him on that park bench.
