Faithless / Young!Noah Dark Imagine
(Gif credit goes to: @rocinante)
Request: heyy i was wondering if you could make a young noah imagine? i luv your imagines sm and there havenāt been many dark imagines going around :) ⤠if itās a young noah x reader thatād be awesome!! :3
Thank you love!! Iāve been sitting here trying to think of a plot, so sorry if itās terrible! Thank you all for sending in/ liking/ commenting on my Dark posts, itās nice to see the fandom!! <3
Pitching himself up, Noah struggles to his feet, dusting off the slight rock on his jacket from where he had slipped climbing out of the caves, his fingers fiddling with the small letter tucked inside the pocket of his trousers that he was sent to deliver to Jonas. Welcoming the dimming sun; the light darkness that centres on the stream of crickets chirping their symphonies, a welcome sound as he hums contentedly to himself, he saunters out from the caves, his finger hooked behind his suspenders as he ponders the future set out for him, and the tragedy he has left to experience before the last cycle begins.Ā
He sets off, following the winding stone path past the rotten old cushion chair, and past pine trees that shake in front of him as if frightened, the drooping flower that dot the landscape hanging in thick bushes around the trail raising their velvety heads as his feet crunch past, as if they were breathing new life into their silky petals. As he delves deeper into the forest, allowing the stray curls of his golden hair to fall over his eyes, his step falters as he spots a figure sitting, drawing on a log a few metres in front of him. Someone, to his surprise, that he doesnāt recognise. And luckily, definitely not one of the travellers. Whipping his head around to make sure no oneās watching him, he turns back to you, stepping a little closer up the brown crunchy grass of the hill to splay his hand against the trunk of an old tree. He watches you for a moment, his eyes wide and thoughtful as he follows your every movement, the graceful dip and curve of your pen against the paper as you draw the dead bird lying on the ground, his eyes flickering up every so often to land on the dips and curves of your face. An unfamiliar, and unsettling feeling churns in the pit of his stomach, an unknowing blush spreading a hot red against the the brows of his cheeks as he finally dares to speak.Ā
āYour drawing is very beautiful.ā
āI could ask you the same thing. What are you doing out here, little one? Donāt you know these woods are dangerous?ā
āLook, I may not know who you are, or what you want in Winden, but Iām pretty sure weāre the same age. Plus, I think everywhere in Winden is dangerous, especially with the amount of secrets these people keep.ā
Noah only smirks in reply, intrigued by your brashness and vivacity.
āHave you ever wandered down to the meadow? I was just heading that way, if youād like to join me?ā
You stare at him for a moment, biting against your lower lip as he gazes back, an intensity in his eyes as his head dips down to level with yours, but an intensity that sets something within you in fire.
The path Noah took you through the yellowing grass near the train track was a tumultuous one, but somehow familiar none the less, as if the two of you had walked this path before, and always would. The tall grasses, inflexible in their dryness were stiff as they tried to drink in the rays of the burning Winden sun, flattened under your boots, as you stare curiously at the broad expanse of Noahās back, averting your gaze as he turns his head back every so often with a small grin. Walking further down, limping slightly down behind his upright shoulders as he holds a thin sheath of wheat in his fingers, you marvel at the path in front of you, so ragged and bent and covered in littering wild flowers in a cacophony of colours; blue cornflowers, little white daisies peeking their heads, red poppies blooming like blood.
There was a shallow ditch at edge of the meadow. The grass was thick and lush there, and for Noah, it felt like a haven away from the watching eyes of Adam. The oak tree provided sun-flecked shade on top of mud hardened soil, flowing like a sea of green over the hillock, flecked with tracks running here and there that looked like some children had played hide and seek. You nearly walk into Noah as he finally comes to a sudden stop, your chin hitting against his shoulder as you trip into him, a firm hand coming to rest on his back as you steady yourself. Noah twists around trying to catch you, his hand wrapping around your wrist. Your breath hitches in your throat as he lets out a shaking breath, but he doesnāt let go, instead he steps closer to you, until you can feel his chest against your own, can feel his warm breath fan against your cheek.
Pulling you down onto the grass, he settles beside you, his blue eyes twinkling like broken glass as his gaze settles onto your face. You grin slightly, making his heart swell as your hand reaches out to entangle with his own. His hand reaches up to brush against your cheek, his fingertips cool as he leans down painfully slowly, his forehead bumping against yours.
āI feel- I feel like weāve done this a million times before.ā
His fingers spread slightly, cool and delicate against the slight blush that covers your cheek as they glide over to the tip of your nose, intense focus bright on his face as he traces the slight dips and bumps that outline your features, unbelieving at how lucky he is to be surrounded by such splendid things before the end of times.