ardent

I'm Not Gonna Write You a Love Song



Cherokee


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06-06-2013, 12:27 AM




Despite needing to concentrate on the hunt ahead of them, Cherokee's thoughts couldn't help but wander to the night before, the kiss she'd given him, the fact that they'd slept so comfortably in each other's embrace as if they'd done it a hundred times before and the fact that he had returned her kiss this morning, possibly giving away the brewing feelings inside of him. How could a woman he had just met cause this? They were still strangers, but a voice in his mind told him that it didn't change anything. She was his. He was hers. It wasn't known or official or anything, but he had already made up his mind. He wasn't going to let her go. He would do everything in his power to be around her as much as he could until he felt it was the right time to make things official between them. He hoped it would come to that soon.


He could see the excitement clear as day across her pretty face, her attention fully concentrated on him. It seemed like just when he was getting his thoughts focused on the hunt, Song stole his focus once again. Was it her smile? Her voice? Her pretty face? Maybe it was just Song as whole. She was too beautiful not focus on. His ongoing thought process of her was momentarily stalled as she spoke up, her words causing a quiet laugh to bubble from his ebon lips.
I think that I would rather stay away from the water, considering my current track record.
She was too much, but the obsidian knight would never get enough of her. How about I fish and you supervise? Does that sound fair? He honestly didn't mind if yesterday's incident was repeated; that would just mean more snuggling for the pair, but he knew it was pretty uncomfortable to walk around with wet fur so opted for the latter. He could fish and she could watch. A win-win for both of them.


So it was set. Fishing it was. Cherokee turned to right, wanting to go farther into the forestry in search of a pond or stream that could hold their breakfast. Song's words brought a crooked grin to his dark kissers. Let's get this show on the road. He gently bumped the white dove with his shoulder before starting along, his pace slow. There was no hurry. Yet anyways.




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