Swiftcurrent Creek And the thousands of stars come out thousands of times

Reverie followed wherever @Lestan led; she saw nothing but him, and stayed close to his side. Between the drifting patches of nothingness that swept over her from moment to moment, she thought of many things. Mainly she thought of Lestan, and how she'd feared all along that he would turn away from her. But it wasn't him, it had never been him. She was the one who had run.
When they stopped, it was all Reverie could do to keep from throwing herself into his arms. He was hurt; she couldn't forget that. She turned to inspect his wounds again, and tried to remember the right plants. Most of them were under snow, but not all. Anxiety rose in her throat, sour and burning, but she pushed aside thoughts such as can I do this? and I can't look. She wanted to help.

reverie fussed over him again. lestan smiled beneath the soft touches, though the worry had never quite left his eyes. "reverie, when you're better," when she spoke again, for he could not fathom that she would not! "when you're better, maybe we can — get out of the valley for a little while."
lip worried between teeth. "were you — trying to leave?"

Lestan spoke again of leaving, but sooner, not forever this time. She could only pull away slightly and nod her agreement. Then he was questioning her again, and she froze. She wished for a moment that he hadn't asked, that he would have waited — but he had a right to ask, didn't he? Reverie just wished that she could explain.
Her eyes filled with tears again and fell away from him, but soon returned to the slashes of red that stood out so starkly against his beautiful woodsy fur. This was what she had wanted to prevent. But she'd failed, and instead she'd hurt Lestan for no reason at all. With her own actions, and with Tybault's; if only she had never agreed, if she had left sooner, this would not have happened. Maybe it was terrible of her, to want to take that choice away from Lestan, but —
When you find the brightest and most beautiful thing in the world, how can you stand by and watch it become something bloodstained and weary?
Maybe she understood Tybault's perspective more than she would have liked.

lestan did not question her. perhaps he felt he understood, or perhaps he understood enough if not everything. "it's all right," he said softly, drawing reverie close against him, against his heartbeat.
but inside him there was a small self-loathing for not knowing inherently what he might do for her. he had protected her and brought her to a place where tybault could not come, but it had not pulled her from her glass coffin.
he was silent, only reverently aware of her and them now in this.

Depending on things Rev is either going to start talking again in this thread or in the morning..editing this in partially so I don't forget LOL

She felt vulnerable; exposed as Lestan shone light on this ugly place in her heart, this fearful flinching creature inside of her that fled wildly from the slightest touch of heat and warred constantly with the part of her that only wanted to love and be loved. Surely now that he really saw her, all of her, he would realize that she was not worthy of him. Except... he didn't. He only reassured her and pulled her against his chest.
Somewhere in the spaces between her shame to have left Lestan and her guilt to have stayed as long as she did, realization bloomed like blood in the water. She could not have both. It was either this: the warmth and security, the feeling of being understood, of being loved —
Or the freedom to run and let all of her problems dissolve in the breeze. The worry about Lestan, about Tybault, all of it. Her desire to safekeep the man she loved was, she felt, a selfish thing. If anything should happen to him... even the thought left her breathless. But to lose him entirely, to never see him again; she suddenly knew that she couldn't bear that either.
Reverie kissed him then, and wrapped herself around him, and hoped that this would say all that she could not, because her decision was already made. It wasn't even a decision, not really. Lestan's light had crept into every corner of her heart, brushing even the shadows now — and in rose-gold it lit the only path Reverie wanted to follow, the only path that felt truly safe.

!!!

it was difficult, more and more, to be separated from her in any way. he responded when she moved to envelop him, breathing in the good smells of her, the comfort that reverie now represented.
and he shut his eyes;
and felt his heart stage against her own;
and knew her down to the vital fibers of himself, knew her emotion as keenly as if it were his own, despite the fact he could not untangle it for her.

Never again; I'll never leave you again. As long as he loved her, as long as she could bring light to the skyline of his eyes; however long that was, that would be her forever. I love you; spoken not in words but in each trailing kiss. She delighted now in tracing the features of Lestan's face, kissing brow and cheekbone and jawline in sweet devotion to every part of him.
You're perfect, Reverie told him in preening teeth behind his ear, wandering carefully down the curve of his throat. And you're mine. In a surge of possessiveness she nipped delicately at his neck and smoothed the fur with a kiss. She wanted to be closer, to let the world fall away until they were nothing but light and air and thought, nothing but their twining souls, and even that would not be enough. She wanted to say the words, but they still wouldn't come; so she wrote her love letter in warmth and gentle touches, and she knew that he would understand.

loveee purity ring <33

her face said a thousand things; the brush of her lips was purest reassurance. a soft and throated sound came from lestan, the parchment beneath the ink of reverie's brush. he was not sure he was deserving of her silent missives that came unfurled from breath and touch alike.
he remained reverent, almost wondering; always, she pulled that from him, the deepest glen-worship and the adulating purl of soft laughter which whispered through the fur of her nape as the mayfair responded fully and swiftly to the reality of her very shadelike existence.

His soft laughter was a sweet song in the air, and finally the words found her, the only ones she ever wanted to say to him. I love you, The ghost of a whisper into his fur as she kissed him again. I love you. Louder now; she never wanted him to doubt this. But she still hadn't said everything, and he needed to hear all of it. She wouldn't ask him for forever — but nothing would stop her from giving him hers.
I'll love you forever, if that's what you want, Her lips found his throat again and lingered there, and her heart thrummed wildly. She wondered if he could feel it. She wondered if he felt the same.

"oh, reverie —!" his voice rising into a gentle and surprised song. "i've — i have indeed loved you," and then his eyes were widening! "your voice, it's —!" back, returned, arrived, renewed.
a breathless little laugh escaped him. "so you'll settle here, at least for a while?" 
a tiny part of lestan suggested that reverie would not.
very fiercely he ignored it, wrapping her close with a small sound of contentment and delight.

Yes, A little breathless; she kissed him again, again, again, each time feeling a small thrill at the thought of being able to kiss him like this every day. The rest didn't matter, not now. I want to be with you. She pulled away a little to meet his eyes then, her own gaze soft and bright with love for him, with hope for their future. Reverie had been ready to fly, ready to leave it all behind —
But she thought, in this moment, that maybe she could get used to this feeling of being grounded.