G A R E T H
His name on her lips was like wine to a dying man, the pressure of her returned touch a sweet release. In this one moment, he allowed himself to indulge in simple feeling. He cast out all visions save for the winged warrior he cradled to himself. If Salome had been a starless sky, Pangaea was the breaking dawn. The sweetness of her skin against his wrote the melody of spring, the harsh winds of winter far behind them. He nuzzled into her, stroking the muscles between her flight appendages, mindful of the delicate instruments. Everywhere he touched her he laid a trail of affectionate kisses, tracing over battle scars and unmarred flesh alike with the same tenderness, murmuring sweet-nothings between stolen breaths.
“How does the sun compare to your brilliance,” he questioned, not expecting an answer as he moved to the wild tangles of her mane for a second time. He nuzzled her here, too, his vocals husky as he continued. “The clouds in the sky so envious.”
The stallion held her there, savoring the feeling of her pressed against him. He allowed his thoughts to be consumed by visions of what could have been. The life he might have had, if his heart had not been ripped so violently from his chest. The night he might have had if he hadn’t truly cared for the saurian. For all the sensual words and lingering touches, that was not the type of man Gareth was.
He knew that this ache he felt was the fear of loss. He had spent too long within himself to tell Salome how he begged for her in his heart, and she had been whisked away, and returned something else. The icy grip of fear twisted in his belly again, but for different reasons now. He could not take advantage of the injured woman. No matter how much she claimed to enjoy the prospect of company. No matter how much the earth beneath him quaked at the thought of belonging to someone, anyone, for just a single evening.
No.
The brute had built her trust so that he could help her to heal. Even if his reasons for doing so had not been as pure as he had led her to believe. Healing the woman had been a selfish act. A distraction from his own turmoil, and when there had been distance that had been enough. Now that he had placed hearts on the line, his actions were intolerable. Reprehensible, Noor might have said. To get her hopes up only to dash them away. He would not use this mare as a building block for his own ego and to soothe his sorrows.
Gareth’s muzzle drifted along the crest of her neck close to where her skull now rested against his shoulder. “Pangaea,” her name smoldered like embers as he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her skin. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His lyrics became thick as he choked down his shame, swallowing his hurt as hot tears formed at the edges of his amber pools. “I can’t hurt you.” He said.
He rested his cheek against her, holding her tightly. “I don’t want you to make a mistake. I don’t want you to feel as if you owe me this. Please,” his words were barely above a whisper now, the only other sound the crackling of the fire and his own stumbling heart. “Let me heal you first, so that I know it is your own choice and not me leading you.”
He’d never forgive himself for hurting her- any mare, really, but especially not her. It was a particularly cruel thing to build a relationship with someone only to use them and waste them. He refused to be that kind of stallion, the ones that abused their positions of power in order to fulfill their own desires.
The stallion needed to know that if she stayed, it was because she truly wanted to know him, to be with him. Not because she had nowhere else to go, not because she might die without him. He needed to know that he wanted her to stay, not purely from his desire to repress the ugly memories their current surroundings held. The chain that looped around his neck felt ice cold, though all matters of physics knew that to be impossible. He needed to pull himself back from the edge before they both went tumbling down and never came back up again.
“How does the sun compare to your brilliance,” he questioned, not expecting an answer as he moved to the wild tangles of her mane for a second time. He nuzzled her here, too, his vocals husky as he continued. “The clouds in the sky so envious.”
The stallion held her there, savoring the feeling of her pressed against him. He allowed his thoughts to be consumed by visions of what could have been. The life he might have had, if his heart had not been ripped so violently from his chest. The night he might have had if he hadn’t truly cared for the saurian. For all the sensual words and lingering touches, that was not the type of man Gareth was.
He knew that this ache he felt was the fear of loss. He had spent too long within himself to tell Salome how he begged for her in his heart, and she had been whisked away, and returned something else. The icy grip of fear twisted in his belly again, but for different reasons now. He could not take advantage of the injured woman. No matter how much she claimed to enjoy the prospect of company. No matter how much the earth beneath him quaked at the thought of belonging to someone, anyone, for just a single evening.
No.
The brute had built her trust so that he could help her to heal. Even if his reasons for doing so had not been as pure as he had led her to believe. Healing the woman had been a selfish act. A distraction from his own turmoil, and when there had been distance that had been enough. Now that he had placed hearts on the line, his actions were intolerable. Reprehensible, Noor might have said. To get her hopes up only to dash them away. He would not use this mare as a building block for his own ego and to soothe his sorrows.
Gareth’s muzzle drifted along the crest of her neck close to where her skull now rested against his shoulder. “Pangaea,” her name smoldered like embers as he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her skin. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His lyrics became thick as he choked down his shame, swallowing his hurt as hot tears formed at the edges of his amber pools. “I can’t hurt you.” He said.
He rested his cheek against her, holding her tightly. “I don’t want you to make a mistake. I don’t want you to feel as if you owe me this. Please,” his words were barely above a whisper now, the only other sound the crackling of the fire and his own stumbling heart. “Let me heal you first, so that I know it is your own choice and not me leading you.”
He’d never forgive himself for hurting her- any mare, really, but especially not her. It was a particularly cruel thing to build a relationship with someone only to use them and waste them. He refused to be that kind of stallion, the ones that abused their positions of power in order to fulfill their own desires.
The stallion needed to know that if she stayed, it was because she truly wanted to know him, to be with him. Not because she had nowhere else to go, not because she might die without him. He needed to know that he wanted her to stay, not purely from his desire to repress the ugly memories their current surroundings held. The chain that looped around his neck felt ice cold, though all matters of physics knew that to be impossible. He needed to pull himself back from the edge before they both went tumbling down and never came back up again.
"Speech" | | @Pangaea | Sorry this got a little clunky @-@
