[AW] stormchild, are you listening

[Reichenbach]

LIKE ICARUS LOVED THE SUN — As if summoned by the storm, Reichenbach arrived upon the shores of the Terminus, his coal curls flying wildly around the rough-hewn bones of his face. He adored this weather, felt lifted by it, as if being stranded amongst the chaotic wind and the rumbling of the bruised sky brought forth a side of him that slumbered. The storm was only growing in strength as he watched the tumbling waves, silver eyes flashing along with the lightening in the distance - how fierce he felt, how alive. While most were hidden in their beds, tucked away against the wildness of the night and the storm, this was where the Night King wanted to be.  His blood thrummed with the storm, his bone white grin a little off kilter and wild as something made him turn to the clifftop - to Aislinn. She was beautiful, stunning, even - and standing atop the cliff with those feather-soft wings spread... Reichenbach doubted that vision would leave his mind any time soon. When he'd first met her he'd been caught by pleasure, amidst all of the Night Court denizens he had watched her, silver eyes peering over multi-coloured heads even as he chatted and laughed with others.  At some point that night she had vanished - but lingered in his mind like a slow burning ember until each step had sounded like her name. And here she was: wild but contained, an unfurling flower or the slick of a steel blade. Each rumble of thunder set his chest tighter, ablaze and drunk on the weather as he made his choice: he would find her. Each step was faster, each strike of lightning sending him more into that heart thrum, the abyss he avoided so, so close to the surface. At the top, a little breathless, his silver eyes sought her - and found her next to... Weir? While a small part of him groaned that he had wanted Aislinn to himself, wanted to discover why he felt drawn to her... the larger, sweeter part of him set his lips into a gypsies grin.  He drew forward, emerging as if from shadow and mist, argent eyes burning bright (if slightly wild) as he answered Weir's gentle question; "I would." The sound was as wild as the storm itself, rough and low and yet beautiful all the same. TOO CLOSE TOO FIERCELY   @Aislinn @Weir !!

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