@wvlfthorned — [011] while [S] sleeps, [R] traces constellations on their skin, leaving soft kisses 【 accepting 】
he dare not wake her, sleep already a fleeting luxury that she'd scantly afforded herself until now. years spent in pursuit of him, in ways to stop him, there's a guilt that lives within solas at the fact that he was the reason for how singularly focused she became. and she'd lost more than sleep because of it.
a twilight hue claims the fade's ether as he lays within a bed of plush pillows, furs, and blankets, a contentment he's not felt in so millennia. even in their time together during the inquisition it had still been undercut by his treachery, that no matter the motes of happiness he'd allowed himself he could never fully give into it's embrace. not in the way he can now, not in the way he longs to despite the unseen chasm that still seems to separate them. however, they've been slowly rebuilding the bridge he'd burned, glimmers of what was flicker into life more and more.
and tonight, she's allowed him back into her bed.
his hand lifts to slowly brush a lock of hair from her face, a rare softness in his gaze as he watches the steadiness of her breathing. he trails his thumb over the peaceful ease in her brow as she seems to dream of something pleasant, a relief that almost tugs a smile to the corner of his lips.
he finds himself taken with her all over again in the quiet calm of the moment, his fingertips slowly traversing the soft plains of her skin as they follow the patterns of each beauty mark, every freckle, and scar upon the tapestry of the only woman he has ever loved. he can see the stars in her skin, a canvas he longs for as solas plants a kiss against the curve of her shoulder. he notes she stirs somewhat but doesn't wake, leaving him to continue his pursuit across the perfect arras of her back.
with each constellation he finds his lips follow suit, lavishing her with soft, but deliberate affection until he can hear the sound of her inhaling deeply in the tell-tale signs of her rousing from her gentle slumber.
the storm violet of his eyes drift up to find her as she tips her head to look back at him, her golden hair effortlessly alluring in its wildness as she seems to only look at him. he takes this chance to retrace his steps, bolds hands that had once been too uncertain to touch her now pave up her sides in his ascent until solas's nose brushes against hers. he nearly presses his lips to hers in his eagerness but he refrains if only to whisper so close their lips nearly touch,
❝ Ma ane ina'lan'ehn, ma tarasyl'myelan. ❞
