I'll dissolve when the rain pours in
05-22-2014, 12:40 PM
The boy had been almost uncertain if she would respond, and a fleeting doubt would whisper wings against his heart as she paused with the shock. This was wrong, this was all wrong for him to act this way with her heart in shambles around them. Yet in the next moment she would respond, and her heart would be with him as they beat together and their lips would touch.
He too could feel the moon upon him, alighting the scene with its uberathly tinged of silver and soft lights. His coat would glisten,as the lighter parts of her own would and he would feel a sense of a dream quality about them, the light simply too soft, luminescent and simply beautiful upon her.
Her touch did not feel like a dream, despite how long he had wished for it he knew there was nothing imaginary about the warmth and softness about her, nor about her sweet taste upon his tongue. He could barely breath now, and. Soft gasp escaped him to couple with her whine. This was all true, reality and unfolding before him. "My love" he whispered, the words he had bottles up inside of him no longer had a resin to be kept away "my sweet ove, my twig, my angel" he would whisper into her coat.
It was difficult to pull away, to draw himself from her embrace and he knew he was shaking a little as he did so. "I have something for you" he whispered, "wait for me"
And then he was gone... Pulled away from her and vanishing into the looming shadows of the night. With each step away he could feel a pull, begging him to go back. Despite telling himself it would be for no more then a fee heartbeats he still felt it agonisingly difficult to be apart from her now. He would retrieve the item and loop lightly back to her form. He would stop before her and genty place it against the ground.
She was likely.to recognise the material, with the grainy quality of the meteorite, still pale orange and dark and unearlthy. But more then that, she would recognise the shape. A gently curved and young fern that he Haas laberwd over and bet into shape over the last season. Ever since she ad shown him the grave of her young one and had picked out a piece of the rock, had he worjed over thia.
He too could feel the moon upon him, alighting the scene with its uberathly tinged of silver and soft lights. His coat would glisten,as the lighter parts of her own would and he would feel a sense of a dream quality about them, the light simply too soft, luminescent and simply beautiful upon her.
Her touch did not feel like a dream, despite how long he had wished for it he knew there was nothing imaginary about the warmth and softness about her, nor about her sweet taste upon his tongue. He could barely breath now, and. Soft gasp escaped him to couple with her whine. This was all true, reality and unfolding before him. "My love" he whispered, the words he had bottles up inside of him no longer had a resin to be kept away "my sweet ove, my twig, my angel" he would whisper into her coat.
It was difficult to pull away, to draw himself from her embrace and he knew he was shaking a little as he did so. "I have something for you" he whispered, "wait for me"
And then he was gone... Pulled away from her and vanishing into the looming shadows of the night. With each step away he could feel a pull, begging him to go back. Despite telling himself it would be for no more then a fee heartbeats he still felt it agonisingly difficult to be apart from her now. He would retrieve the item and loop lightly back to her form. He would stop before her and genty place it against the ground.
She was likely.to recognise the material, with the grainy quality of the meteorite, still pale orange and dark and unearlthy. But more then that, she would recognise the shape. A gently curved and young fern that he Haas laberwd over and bet into shape over the last season. Ever since she ad shown him the grave of her young one and had picked out a piece of the rock, had he worjed over thia.
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