As soon as he says those words ("I can't rest...") it all begins to feel like too much. The warm velvet of her skin, the smell of mud and clover and want. The future so uncertain and yet, in some ways, so very certain. He can almost feel the storm that still rests on the horizon, the warmth of blood on his hands (hands that will always know the shape of violence)... and he can almost feel fate yielding to their determination... almost see the shape of it at the edge of his vision, shrouded in a thin veil... almost...
"Stay with me just a little longer..." Her voice cools the wild boil of his thoughts to a simmer. "Stay with me just a little longer, then we will find him."
The heat leaves with his breath as he murmurs quietly-- "Of course," into a velvet-soft ear. The statement conveys his love and desire as best as any two words could. But the one that follows suggests something greater than desire, something closer to devotion. It rings between them like the first raindrop on still water. "Anything."
Isra leans against him and his heart surges forward, and then slows down, and surges forward again. He should learn how to pace himself before love burns its way straight through him. But there is something so, so appealing about a fire, even to him who lost everything to it. "Anything for you." The moth is perhaps the most noble of creatures. It doesn't care what love will do to it, take from it. It lovingly sets itself ablaze.
His eyes gently close themselves, although his mind still paces like a wild thing in a cage. Eik has never felt, at once, so soft and so violent. Conflicting emotions sway like the glass leaves overhead. The rhythm of their song beats gently, persistently, at a drum hidden deep in his core. A moment later he feels it echo in Isra too. Her breath grows heavy and his slowly follows suit.
Just a little longer.
One dream makes way for another. He'd stretch this moment out forever, if time could be so easily played with. Since it can't, he'll have to remember the smell and feel and taste of this instant. This will be what he fights for, when the time for fighting comes. He thinks this may very well be what he dies for, when the time for dying comes.
This is what he thinks, as he drifts into a beautiful but restless sleep:
Just
a little
longer.
-
@Isra -swoon- thank you for another lovely thread!
Time makes fools of us all
