For the new & improved kiss meme, 20 with Zevran/f!Mahariel please? Maybe Zevran realizing he loves her? I absolutely adore your writing!
(Kisses because everything hurts right now includingbeing loved by you but you’re also the only thing that makes it feel better) And I adore you!
If there is one thing she is, itis warmth. A fire all her own, a heat no other can match. Many times had shestolen into his tent, he into hers. Wrapped in each other, tangled limbs and burninglips, falling asleep with her in his arms. It is rare to wake up alone, to wakeup cold, but the closer they inch towards their goal, the more it seems tohappen. He pushes himself up from the bedroll, tucks a stray lock of hair behindhis ears. At least, tonight, she has not gone far. He finds her stoking thefire with a stick, sitting on a fallen log, elbow on her knee and chin in herhand.
She turns when she hears thetent open, smiles when she sees him. He settles hands on her shoulders, worksfingers against muscle. He knows what nightmares plague her. He knows not toask her to come back to bed. Not yet. Instead he leans over as his hands slipover her arms, his face beside hers, running his tongue along the shell of herear. She chuckles under his attentions, leans away and stands to face him. “Youshould sleep,” she tells him. He wants to tell her not without you, but instead he takes her hand in his.
Pulling her towards him with asmug smile, wrapping an arm around her waist. “What are we doing?” She asks,the amusement just barely quirking at the edge of her lips.
“Dancing,” he says. She rewardshim with a snort of laughter before he begins to sway, as she settles her handon his shoulder. Zevran’s still smiling, studying her face. He knows it evenbetter than his own, each careful curve of vallaslin,the shadows under her eyes, the dimples in her cheeks. Closing his eyes as herests his forehead against hers, as they step against dirt and leaf. Gentlymoving together, her quiet breathing, that heat that seeps from her to him.
He almost feels guilty, stealingher like this. Hoarding her all to himself. Almost. Instead, his nose brushesagainst hers, listening to her soft exhale, the way she eases into him. To him,there are no others like her. There are no others. His hand squeezes aroundhers for a moment. She may think it a simple gesture of care, of affection, butfor him it is a sign of the realization. He feels it in the dread of everyheartbeat, in the slow pounding against rib, the heat that flushes the back ofhis neck and sweeps into his cheeks. In the knot between his brows, thegritting of his teeth, the subtle way he holds her tighter. He loves her.
He’s heard the words before,such hollow and meaningless things, but now he’s the one saying them, repeatingthem, an echo in his skull. Everything stops, slides to a halt, opening hiseyes to see her quizzically looking at him. “Zev? What’s wro-” He stops herwith the hard press of his lips against hers. Resistant, surprised at first,she soon eases into it. That hand on his shoulder sliding into his hair, hermouth opening to his, so warm and wet. The murmurs as they shift, as he holdsher face in his hands. Brushing thumbs over cheekbones, fingers against thepointed tips of her ears, tracing the line of her jaw.
She is the first true choice he’smade. Free of the gilded cage, of the lies, of everything he ever was. Hethought he would find it in a different way. He thought he would find it at theedge of her blade. He’s afraid now, a fear he’s never felt before, in a way henever wanted to. Afraid he will lose her. Afraid she won’t love him back. Heholds her a little tighter, hand at the nape of her neck, kisses her a littleharder. He has her now. He forces allother thoughts away.
