Hushed Willows [m] Takes his mask off and lulls his head

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She rose with the sun to a gentle snowfall just beyond the den mouth, and thought that she felt very odd; not at all like herself. For a time Reverie tucked herself in @Boone’s arms, shivering faintly every now and then. She found comfort in the thrum of his heart. She loved that sound, perhaps more than any other in the world; the sound of the life she so adored. His steadiness, his warmth, the sheer beauty of his existence and every breath he drew. She sought the sound and the feel of it whenever she could; her lips at his throat and his wrist, her cheek against his chest, his chin resting atop her head. This was hers. He was hers.

She loved him so, so very much. Sometimes it felt like suffocating. Sometimes she wanted to scream.

By midmorning she slipped from the den, overcome with the need to breathe. To simply exist for a moment, unburdened; to shed the weight of all the promises and the wants and the fervent devotion like a bridal gown donned every morning. Each day she chose him anew. Each day, his wife, redefined again and again. She loved him so much. Sometimes it was exhausting. Sometimes she wanted to find a place to be utterly alone and cry.

She brought with her the skin of herbs given to her by Kukutux, not really thinking about it even as she set it beside her at the Opal Lake. For a time Reverie watched the snow fall. She wept, but only a little.

Children. Boone would have children from her, and then his world would revolve around them, and hers would still be centered on him. Always him. Did that make her a bad person? Unfit to be a mother? Would he still love her if he knew? Reverie felt that he would leave her if he could see the path ahead of them, ahead of her; the sleepless nights and the tears and the bitterness because she knew that he would love their children more than he would ever love her.

Live for her. For Blossom. Not me.

I don't want to be the beginning and the end, Reverie.

Even now she felt the words like a serrated edge gnawing between her ribs, piercing her lungs, filling her throat with blood until she could taste nothing else. It would happen again. It was happening again, and she was letting it happen, she was choosing it, choosing this, choosing to suffer and she hated herself for it —

But she loved him. She loved him so much. Sometimes it felt like she didn't need to breathe at all. Sometimes it felt like she could scream and nothing would ever break the silence.

By afternoon, the scent of Reverie’s first heat surrounded her, and it filled the willows now. Numbly she began to prepare the tea, glancing up every so often to watch for others. Boone would find her, she knew. He always found her when she needed him.

he knew.
they'd talked about it, yes; she'd spoken to a woman named kukutux about how to prepare. they'd imagined it together, what it would be like to have sons and daughters; to watch them as they take their first breaths, to see them morph and change, to see reverie's tufted face upon new souls. to hear her laugh in a new voice.
he wanted it with every fiber of his being. he ached for it. but he wondered, sometimes, if she doubted it.
but now, there was no more time to question it.
he hadn't expected for the time to come so soon, and yet he knew it as soon as his eyes fluttered open, the change in the sky from pink to blue. his gut churned with a familiar want, and yet it blossomed into something new — something raw and instinctual.
he did not greet her with words. there's a shift in his gaze as she floods his vision — are you sure? — because what succeeded their actions now could not be undone. this was different.

Reverie had expected to feel — more. Some kind of wanting, something fierce and feral and warm to the touch. Wasn't that what heat was? But she felt only a hollow ache. Nothing else, until Boone finally found her.

Her breath caught at the sight of him, the question in those beautiful dark eyes. And there it was, that yearning she'd been waiting to feel, and it was a wild leaping feeling that drove her thoughtlessly into his arms. Are you sure? his eyes asked; I'm yours, her embrace answered. His wife; the mother of his children. She could give him this.

She preened at his jaw, a soft whine stirring in her throat. I don't know if I'm meant to wait until I've had the tea... Reverie confessed quietly, glancing to the tea and back to Boone. I don't want to wait.

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i don't want to wait.
suddenly, boone didn't either. he didn't know what overtook him in that moment. he'd loved her like this before and surely he would a thousand times after, but as his he moves to embrace her, head swimming with white-hot sparks, he did not feel like himself. something had shifted.
it was not a want, but a visceral need, and he would ensure that she felt it too.

***

he smells so strongly of her, and she of him. he is breathless as he kisses her again, again, again; feathersoft to make up for any of his roughness.
do you think--? he cannot finish his question before a sheepish grin begins to tug at his lips.
do you think it'll take?

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Her words faded into silence. Boone embraced her and she gave all of herself to him. An act of trust more than any desire; the most precious gift she could give and the most sundering. She'd given him her vulnerability so many times before, and she knew she would a thousand times after, but this time it was more. This time Reverie surrendered her self, her body, months of her life and hours of her suffering, and in this surrendering she would bring their future.

All of herself, for him.

In the aftermath she was quiet, smiling faintly under Boone's kisses and returning them with her own. Do you think -? Reverie tilted her head at him. Sometimes, She answered with a mischievous smile when he never finished the question. Not as much as you do. She kissed his cheek. What's on your mind?

boone became quiet, suddenly, as he takes her dainty paw and places it upon his shoulder. i just, he blinks slowly, as if he's processing what he says before it flies from his mouth. i'm worried. about you, with, y'know. the pregnancy.
if it worked.
the last thing i ever wanna do is hurt you, reverie, he kisses the inside of her wrist, up to her elbow and then toward her flaxen shoulder. his body ached for hers yet again, but he felt it entirely too soon. i don't want you to do this if you're not-- certain. one-hundred percent.

Boone's touch was more distracting than he knew. Reverie shivered a little with each movement, shifting as his kisses trailed up her arm. She wanted him. He was worried about her. She could hardly process it, but she heard him; he didn't want to hurt her. He wanted her to be sure.

I - She swallowed, feeling hazy. I am. Reverie paused for a moment, grasping for some semblance of focus. All she could think about was how it felt when he touched her. But — I trust you. More than I've ever trusted anyone. And as long as I have you, I know I'll be okay.

She pressed closer, kissing him. She wanted him again; she wanted to never be parted from him.

i trust you.
okay, he breathes. alright. we'll do this together, yeah? i'm not leavin' your side.
a promise, even though it remained unsaid. he cannot keep himself away from her any longer; he sees in her own gaze that she, too, is struggling. surely their bodies would be sore in the coming hours, but right now, it did not matter.