these, our bodies, possessed by light.
Above their heads, the gunmetal sky watches and waits. Clouds murmur the threat of rain. Bexley’s eyes are caught on Acton, as they almost always are, but behind his head and the soft line of his cheek and that wild black hair, she can still see something dangerous looming, glimmering in and out of visibility in the far distance like a scotoma in the corner of one’s eye. Danger crackles in the damp air. Heat ripples from Acton’s skin, so close she feels it like another sun. Against all of it, Bexley has to try hard to steel herself: has to put real effort into the tense square of her shoulders, the way she manages not to shudder at his touch, his voice in her ear, no matter how much her body wants to.
She swallows against a mouthful of pink quartz, a mouthful of waiting to say I love you, or I’m sorry, or please, please don’t leave.
I should. The murmur is unlike her, too soft and too concerned. She hardly hears herself saying it, so far removed is her voice, so disembodied is the sound of it, silk and silver in the air rather than filled with its usual ire; when her eyes meet his, they are unbalanced, unsteady, but not vulnerable, not yet. (At least she’s retained some modem of control.) Bexley’s heartbeat finally slows and settles in her chest. Clearing her throat from that rock-salt, that suppressed hunger, she flashes him an almost catty smile, all teeth and glitter and feline charm - I won’t need luck, the golden girl teases, but thanks.
That casualness is an enormous effort, but as usual, Bex finds a way to manage it.
The empty space where his lips have left her skin almost burns. It is a cold fire, sparking hoarfrost over every golden inch. The hedonist (and the lover) in her aches in protest as she pulls away, takes her first step back toward the Summit, leaves him behind, an ache that goes all the way into her bones - but there is nothing left to say, at least not here, and as bitter as that feeling is, Bexley swallows it with a strange kind of satisfaction, knowing that there’s always next time.
@acton<3
