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Private  - rather a girl with a flower than a boy with a stick

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Reichenbach
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#6







ON RAGLAN ROAD ON AN AUTUMN DAY
I SAW HIM FIRST AND KNEW
THAT HIS DARK HAIR WOULD WEAVE A SNARE
THAT I MIGHT ONE DAY RUE








"What if I don't?"

It was all he needed, all he wanted to hear. Reichenbach felt his great heart beat faster, faster, the pit of his stomach dropping - never to be found again. His breathing was slightly heavy, anticipating, the thought of his lips pressed to hers seared into his brain until he couldn't see anything else, couldn't feel anything but fiercely alive. Then:

"I don't want to"

But he heard the defeat within her like a lance through his heart, she didn't want to: but she had to. She couldn't leave Dusk - and he could never ask that of her. There was a silent roaring within him that slowly erased whatever dreams he'd had of taking her into his Kingdom hand in hand, of seeing her dance to that wild Denoctian music, watching her and only her as he laughed and sang along. She would be his, and he hers. The Night King has become stranded by his desolation, staring through pained silver eyes as suddenly she danced forward.

His breath was rough in his throat as he gasped at the contact, breathless at the touch of her soft lips, closing his long lashed eyes for a brief moment as he became lost in that touch. A subtle, rumbling groan slipped from between his lips as she lingered, utterly lost in the sensation, trying desperately to memorise it. Because he couldn't make her stay with him, couldn't let her. 

Florentine was young, so young. She didn't know what she wanted, had she ever loved before? To love Reichenbach was like loving a hurricane, all at once beautiful and destructive. He couldn't destroy her, couldn't take her youth and claim it as his. Night sent her soothing fingers through his mane, encircling him with shadows as if Calligo were trying to comfort him, to tell him he was right not to steal this young girls life. No matter how much he wanted her to be his. 

Dusk had left the sky, and it was time for her to go. 

Reich slowly, so slowly, pulled back from his girl of flowers, solemn and feeling suddenly cold without her against him. 

"I can't - I.."

It was the first time he'd been lost for words. 

"Rannveig would kill me if I stole you away"

He spoke so softly, they both knew it was a pathetic excuse, a weak one, covering up how afraid they both were. Because Reichenbach was falling hard and fast, and he was terrified. 









ON GRAFTON STREET IN NOVEMBER
WE TRIPPED LIGHTLY ALONG THE LEDGE
OF A DEEP RAVINE WHERE CAN BE SEEN
THE WORTH OF PASSIONS PLEDGED
@Florentine !! Reich can't leave first bc he can't make himself leave her haha 













Messages In This Thread
RE: rather a girl with a flower than a boy with a stick - by Reichenbach - 08-01-2017, 01:23 AM
RE: rather a girl with a flower than a boy with a stick - by Reichenbach - 08-17-2017, 08:42 PM
RE: rather a girl with a flower than a boy with a stick - by Reichenbach - 08-24-2017, 02:38 AM
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