born for burning

There's a hint here, and it's enough that Viðarr picks it up. His heart pounding in his chest, and a little rush in his head... fuck. There's a pounding in his chest now, too, and he doesn't even know what to say to her. The look in Viðarr's eye... it says enough. He's fairly sure that it says enough, or more than enough. There's something here. Something here, a gravity, a magnetism. It all seems to center on her, in this moment.

Tenshi wants to meet him, his flesh and blood. They're colorful, but he's fairly certain they'll like her. A strong, capable, competent woman-- they are really not so different. The pair of them tangled up in a red string, that's something he can't deny. That's something he won't deny. Held together, tangled up in each other, in the same way that he's tangled up in her gaze right now. Viðarr would admit, he quite likes it here. Together, they can daydream all the things that will be their reality soon enough.

The kiss... it's the kind of tenderness, the kind of kiss that stops time. Like nothing, absolutely nothing else matters. Drawn in, lost in it. Wrapped up in her, wrapped up in all of it. His hear aches, his head aches, and around him the entire world seems to spin. Tenshi is at the heart of it all. At the center of it all. The ache in his chest is one that he can't name and can't describe. It's all Viðarr can do to hold to her, to return it with all of the tenderness and fervor. An eternity, but by the time it's broken he's already wanting more. Needing, in a way that he cannot describe.

"I will save you a seat next to me in Valhalla." It's spoken as a promise. Reverent. Viðarr cannot help himself to lean in and kiss her on his own volition now, not wanting to waste another moment. By his side, in this world and the next. By the words he speaks, the shadow swears it.

"Viðarr"