Swiftcurrent Creek ανύψωση

woops this got long

hellfire, hellfire, hellfire.

heaven on earth, swaddled in the silken sheets of her bed. he remembered the honey sweet woman near the coast, he remembered dove, he remembered —

she lingered with no more words for him and his heart thudded in his chest.

she threatened affection and his flesh felt tender, weakened. his spirit had never fully healed from that first fracture, had it? it had not had a chance to grow back stronger. instead it wilted beneath the pressure, threatened to shatter entirely with no way to reappead.

his golden eyes stayed fixed to the base of her ear, so near. tall and willing to hear sweet nothings. he had been a romantic. he had wooed dove into loving him, hadn't he? he had a dalliance with the dark mistress who he would never forget.

one a wife, one a stranger.

she was neither. still strange but not a stranger. still toying with the threads of his heart but not a wife.

so what would she become?

he did not know, but he certainly wanted to know. his nose gently brushed against the wisps at the base of her ear. she did not know this language, he remembered once more. she would not understand the words he might utter to her in false worship.

you are beautiful, he whispered softly, throat clenching with such boldness. it would have been easier to merely choke on it all and flee to the coast again.

she had not taught him words to say to her to provoke feeling — or if she had, he failed to remember them in these vital threatening moments.

why do you want me?

why him?

why always him?

perhaps women had always seen the truth of his spirit.