P a n g a e a
we could worry about them what ifs
'til the world stops turnin'
or i could kiss you what if you liked it
The air had changed, charged like it was that night in the cave . . . but this time, it was tempered by real feelings. The affection that had developed in the last few months, the last few seasons together. Yes she was desperate to get him to wake up, and see what was in front of them, what could be there if he just let it be . . . but she didn't just want to break down his walls for a night of fun . . . no, she was aiming for a bigger prize when this was all set and done, she wanted him for forever. If he would just prove he wanted that too, meet her halfway, let her see it wasn't in her head, or that it wasn't just lusting on his side. That this was something as pure and precious to him as it was to her.
She had nothing when coming to this land, just the pain and torturous memories of being in an unfamiliar world, and having escaped from a hellish place that she wouldn't wish upon her worst enemy. She had been alone, ripped apart from the last pack member she had, and knowing in her heart what she couldn't admit - that he to had perished somewhere along the way. She had no one, was fending for herself, a victim to pain, hunger, and half expecting this world to just turn a blind eye and let her die . . . she hadn't actually planned to make it through the winter.
And yet, even when she tried to kill Noor, tear into him for a desperate bid of food . . . Gareth had tended to her wounds, lecturing her for not seeking help, taking from his own supplies to help her. She had survived only because of him. But it wasn't that, that was the cause of her feelings. Sure, his generous and tender nature definitely played a part in it, but it was just that - his nature that had her lingering. It was in the kindness in his eyes. The laughter that rumbled from deep in his chest sounded as pure and precious as the bubbling of a creak. It was in his smile and the way it made her feel when he turned that smile onto her. It was the way he cared for strangers, the way he opened up for others, and gave, and gave, and gave of himself.
She couldn't find a fault in him, where it mattered . . . but if he didn't just take her she was bound to jump him herself one of these nights. So she amped up her game, planned this dance out since she had heard about it. Knew that she was going to have to spark his interest even if she had to bite him in the rear to notice. She wasn't expecting it to be this easy. He had been drawn to her in that first shower of sparks. The silks that swirled over his shoulders, her light, dancing steps as she twirled around him, pulling him in closer, encouraging him to follow her.
She didn't hesitate in her touch, just as she didn't obscure her words. She knew what she wanted, and damn it . . . she was pretty sure she knew that he wanted the same thing. So she didn't push, and instead, she danced, twirling around him, lightest of touches, gentle of teasing, fang against hide. And her heart hammered into life to watch the shiver race through him, that low rumble that did funny things to her inside at the prick of her muzzle. Did he know how much that simple sound could undo her? How it made her want to shower him with nips and scrapes just to see if he would keep making them. If they would get deeper if she'd feel his bite upon her skin in retaliation.
She didn't hesitate, however, pressing close, purposely keeping herself around him, surrounding him, pulling him deeper. She could see it in the way his eyes followed her, feel it in the heat against her skin as she pressed to him, the way his own heart seemed to pound in time with her own. Yet he didn't touch her. Was he frozen, or had she been wrong? Was the reason he refused to give in because he knew it was just a brief lust . . . that he didn't want her for as long as she wanted him. He always said he didn't want to hurt her . . . Would just one night ruin everything they had?
For a brief moment fear struck through her heart, terrified she'd made the wrong move, terrified this would ruin everything, terrified she'd read too much into his actions and words, and mistaken lust for love, just because it was what she wanted . . . he didn't give her long to worry before he suddenly moved, his steps suddenly mirroring hers. A flash of hope entered her gaze, softening the determination into something more tender as he circled around her, his skin brushing hers, and she smiled, turning, engaging in the dance. His muzzle buried in her curls and she leaning into him, and this time - she didn't twirl away, she twirled closer, as his gaze swept up, his rumbling words soft, sweet, purer than she could have ever imagined.
She turns her gaze up, tilting her head, and meeting his gaze without hesitation. Her smile was soft, gentle, as she brushed her cheek against his the movement suddenly softer, gentler than the fire she'd been serving before, "Then stop being stupid." She chided, nuzzling her face against his, "Stop trying to chase me away . . . " Her words were softer, and she moved closer, towards him, pressing close, as the world around them seemed to grow silent to her ears, her attention fully on this stallion she was gently twirling with. She tucked her head beneath his, her cheek rubbing against his neck, briefly, before she trailed that light touch down to his shoulder, nibbling and nuzzling as she goes, "Stop denying me . . ." She repeats, nipping at the base of his neck, before nuzzling the spot gently, "Let me in . . ."
She settles her exploration, her head coming to rest over his back, and she clings to him, her eyes closing, just keeping him close. "I want you, Gareth. All of you. Your good, your bad, your happy and sad. I want to laugh with you, cry with you, soothe your pain and be the reason for your joy . . ." She settles against him, her movements stopping as she just stays there, holding him close, surrounding herself in the scent, the presence of the stallion, "Gareth . . . " She lifts her gaze up, waiting until he meets her gaze before she continues, "I'm no poet, so I can't make soft, sweet comparisons to stars and passion and desire . . . but you're home, Gareth. And for as long as you'll have me . . . I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but wrapped in your embrace, and being a part of your life."
what if I was made for you and you were made for me
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Gareth
Notes: <3
what if this is it what if it's meant to be
what if i ain't one of them fools just playin' some game
what if i just pulled you close what if i leaned in
and the stars line up and it's our last first kiss
what if one of these days baby i'd go and change your name
what if i loved all these what ifs away
