[P] but I'd risk it all just to be with you

[Raum]

 
He hadn’t looked and had not thought to.
 
As his lips touch her brow, burning against the skin of his fire-hewn girl, Raum does not think of all the ways she is too still and quiet… The Crow ignores the way her eyes are the dark of a summer storm. She is its still air, as metallic as the silver of his skin, and, like a storm, Rhoswen forever steals the breath from his lungs. He knows he cannot weather her, yet he stays, exposed and open beneath her might. Her lightning will shock his blood and her thunder tremble the skin from his bones.
 
And still he stays, to weather what he can.
 
Fate slides its fingers about his heart of black and feathers, and there it squeezes as Rhoswen rises. The ghost feels its weight, its heavy press, but he is too enamoured with this girl to ever look beyond her conflicted eyes. But fate demands to be fulfilled and pushes his gaze beyond the roiling grey of her gaze.
 
Raum is the Crow who watches. He is the orphan who learned to study from the darkness and in its silence, learn secrets and murder. In such darkness, in such silence, in love he has come to know this girl as well as he knows the flesh upon his own torso… but she is changed.
 
Raum is joy and he is horror. He is savage pride and wild fear. Her swollen sides, so alien upon a body that should be slim lines and sharper curves, tell a story he already knows the ending for.
 
What are we going to do?
 
Such words, small and broken and yes, so damning, are lost to silence and eyes that stare and stare. He studies her like she is some terrible wonder just revealed to him: a beautiful herald of death. His death.
 
Raum is falling down, down, down. The earth is opening and gravity pulls him into the dark of a cave whose bottom is an eternity away. His crow heart pecks and pecks at his chest, but not even that wily thing could free itself from his ribs. Truth is twining like weeds around his heart and it is more terrible to realize his alliances have changed.
 
What were they going to do?
 
Ha! So many things and yet, “Nothing.” The Crow says, soft like silver.  He steps close to his girl of sand and flames. He tastes the smoke upon her skin, the rippling heat of her presence. Burn him, burn him the sun seems to cry as it banishes Calligo’s shadows. But the boy is bold and his touch smooths along her cheek as he draws her into an embrace. Only his heart beats a whisper of danger, danger, danger to her own.
 
“What more do we need to do when we are both Solterrans?” That silken lie tangles itself into the secret shadows of her hair, framing her ear. Then lower, in a conceding murmur, a truth passed in a stolen moment between a Solterran girl and her Denocte lover, he says, “We will make it work.”
 
And it is a most frightning vow.

@Rhoswen <3 <3