your heart is a wild thing
made of stardust and thunder and hurricanes
made of stardust and thunder and hurricanes
She is stardust and hurricanes where he is twilight and daydreams. Shadows hugged her curves, where silver moonlight caught and shimmered around the beautiful stranger — a beacon of light in Calligo's slumbering dark. Her skin is tingling, every nerve ending ablaze; blood coursing thick and hot and thrumming with the high of her dancing and summer wine. The fae's heart is a mad thing in her chest, the chambers of the beating organ cleaving open through it's old wounds as she watched helplessly as the strangers chin drooped. No — she thought, finding herself poised to take another step closer, to lift his chin to find his eyes of deep brown, to swim in the shadows and lose herself completely. She craved to see those eyes; a stranger she did not know, but oh how she wanted such a thing to change. He struck a chord in her that was threaded in the deep fathoms of her being; for she could not shake the strike of familiarity to him. The fae was sure of it.. the gods had crafted him from her wants and dreams; and here he stood not more than a few feet from her. A breathing, lovely wish bound by a dark coat and ivory star.
Her poor, broken little heart nearly bursts as warmth overflows it's four chambers as the stranger's smile returns; a slice of moonbeams in the smoke and shadows. She is drawn to that smile, like a magnet, for she cannot tear her gaze away from the allure of shimmering dusk in his ebony mane; the colors of dreams gracing his skin. Her orbs of blue are bound; and she finds that she does not want to look away as he steps forward to meet her. Her breath is shaking and catching as she realizes she had been holding it; waiting, wishing, hoping.. utterly unsure of what he would say. But she found that whatever he would reply was perfectly alright.. for he was a waking fragment of her dream. She was sure of it.
No.. I would remember.
The grave shudder of his crown sent a shiver of sorrow done her spine. His voice was soft, like a whisper that held so many emotions that she could not even begin to decipher. A delicate hoof pointed, she is about to move closer to him. The fae discovers that she wishes warmth to flood him with the rush of joy, like a downpour of sunshine to brighten the deep brown of his gaze. Up close now, she can feel it; the soft shudders of sewn pieces beginning to pull together in her chest. His words, his beauty, his presence.. they do not bleed her; they do not rip her open; and they do not cleave black holes in the starry expanse of her soul.
But if we had met, it would feel like this. Like a dream, I mean.
The tilt of his head has her tipping her own, her smile lovely on lighter velveteen lips. She does not intend to break his gaze; her orbs shining like bright blue fires in the darkness. His words ring true, the seriousness coating each syllable sending a quiver of reality through the haze surrounding them. Biting her lip, and without meaning too, the winged fae averts her gaze. The world is awash in silver starlight; a land of childhood dreams and fluttering fireflies. Closing her eyes, she tries to hold onto this moment; for she does not want to let it go. Oh no.. the fall to reality is steep and riddled with ache. She is not ready, for the stranger still stands before her as handsome as ever.
"I do not wish for this dream to end," the winged fae confessed, sadness tugging her lips into a half-smile. A cool night breeze sifts through her feathers and mane — Calligo's whispers in the dark — tugging at the flower tucked neatly behind her ear. Lavender petals flutter in the wind, landing one by one on the silvery water pooling around her ankles. Her gaze drifts downwards before slowly blinking up at the familiar stranger; taking note of the colors of his coat, and the threads of moonlight shot through his mane. She is like a girl traveling through a kingdom made of dreams; he the prince who resides in a castle of gold and the light crafted from burning stars.
Her right wing extends to it's full length, the stretch of each corded muscle sending shudders of relief through her bones. She tilts her head to the side with curiosity, her mane of silver and ink falling to the wayside in ripples. With each inhale her nerves burn hotter; her heart thundering like a storm in her ears, so loud she could have sworn the stranger could hear it.
"Will you dance with me?" she beckons, the stars shining like pearls as the night opens up around them in a song of cicadas and music that she could hear with perfect clarity. "This night is too lovely to waste."
@asterion ♡ here, have a book!
"Aislinn speech."
