I paid the price and own the scars
why did we climb to fall so far ?
Neither and it is a breathy admission that has her eyes straying back to find the his own, a sea of their own making, endless and beautiful to match the voice that is content and yet not. There is unrest within him now, something that she can't quite put her finger on but she can feel in the vibrations of the world around them. Drawn from her own world, he pulls her into something more, something new that she has not tasted since she left her mother and father, travelling to study under the doctor. But even Eluoan took time to warm up to her whilst she was his charge. The smile on Asterion's face is foreign, but it is so beautiful she could have cried were she more emotional.
Moira knows what Estelle would do. She would saunter up and cozy herself next to the Regent, tucked under his arm like a doll on display. That was what she was trained to do, fall into the arms of strangers so easily as though she'd been there all their lives. The phoenix woman is nothing like her cousin - not even similar in the skin they wear. But they are cousins in the loosest of definitions, so she should not be surprised or judge her actions based upon Estelle's.
With that she sighs, drinking in every small fleck of emotion that the man feeds her. Something she's said pleases him, even the atmosphere is lighter, brighter. But she doesn't understand the look on his face. It's the one the silver boy gave her before, but something different moves within. Was it awe? Inspiration? Muse? Something less, or perhaps more? It is a mystery that has her hanging on the edge of her seat as he chuckles at last. The noise so soft it could have been the new mewling of a kitten, yet when she looks at him, at the curve of his cheek, the crinkling of eyes, she knows she wants to hear it again. And again. And again.
As sudden as it comes, the wind takes it away. It's the first time she wishes that even that wind that brought birdsong and joy would have been absent so she could hold the sound for even a moment longer. Although, much to her delight, joy is replaced by joy when he speaks: teasing, friendly. It's almost too much, but it sparks an answering mischievous grin and a fire in her heart. Is this what the artists of Denocte feel every day? It baffles her how they can live with such fire and not burn from its heat.
"I could find a million adventures in your laugh," Moira manages, completely honest, unhindered by facades kept on for the benefit of those she knows. "But I could start with a story, tell me the story of the day you didn't make a wish?" She whispers the request, eyes cast down shyly. It is bold of her to delve like this, to keep so much of herself whole and ask for him to bare himself to her. All it took was a leap of courage though, like a leap from these cliffs could carry her into the skies she has never known.
we made our love out of stacks of cards
@Asterion ;u; we're not flirting i promise.
