With every broken bone, I swear I lived
More than a season had passed since she was freed from her stone prison, and not a single person had touched her tail until this moment. Muscled and supple like a serpent's body, it was sensitive the way a solitary finger was, and Maea found it very distracting to have it grasped. She had to really focus to understand what Harper was saying, despairing at herself for slipping when it was so important that she paid attention.
When his grip on her tightened, Maea sank a little deeper into his arms. Felt as though she was melting from the quiet vindication in having him on her side, comforted by the sentiment that she wasn't wrong to want... something. Anything. A bit of understanding and respect that maybe wasn't too much to ask for after all.
It was fine if Harper couldn't erase the events of the past. She could carry them herself. Could even learn to accept the pain of them, if it meant knowing herself better for it. If she never learned the importance of boundaries or what it felt like to have them trampled, there was no way she could have understood what lay in Harper's intense stare.
His slip of phrasing had her breath hitch, and her cheeks felt bruised from the heat of the blush. To even allow herself the picture of waking alongside him was staggering. It seemed a mirage, illusions in a heat haze, wonderful and distant and maybe impossible to reach... But somehow it seemed to be permitted, if only just for now, to consider the 'what if' and the obstacles.
Lifting a hand to softly touch Harper's cheek, Maea closed her eyes. Tried to make sense of the jumble of her thoughts that skittered about like silver minnows. Notions, impressions, fragments of ideas - all the things that formed her personality and values and needs - scattering whenever she tried to put words on them. Mostly she just felt overwhelmed. Scared at how suddenly this was happening, how a simple desire to spend more time with this person was turning into a game of matching seashells, to see if and how they might fit. Was she making promises she wouldn't be able to keep again? Would she become the one to ultimately destroy this kind, warm-hearted man? That thought alone nearly had her sobbing in despair; when had her hands ever failed to do more harm than good to anyone?
And yet... it had never been so tempting to reach for what he almost, maybe, possibly could be offering.
Tension was building up within her again. To shake it before it could tongue-tie her, Maea tightened the tail-grasp in a squeeze, and brushed the pad of her thumb along his cheekbone, and slowly eased herself back to sit up.
"... do you want to see the orchard?" she asked, after a deep breath; a touch pleading, hoping he would catch her need to move. It was easier to think on her feet. Easier to speak when the gaze could wander over unimportant things like apple trees and wildflowers, instead of getting lost in the depth of his eyes.
When his grip on her tightened, Maea sank a little deeper into his arms. Felt as though she was melting from the quiet vindication in having him on her side, comforted by the sentiment that she wasn't wrong to want... something. Anything. A bit of understanding and respect that maybe wasn't too much to ask for after all.
It was fine if Harper couldn't erase the events of the past. She could carry them herself. Could even learn to accept the pain of them, if it meant knowing herself better for it. If she never learned the importance of boundaries or what it felt like to have them trampled, there was no way she could have understood what lay in Harper's intense stare.
His slip of phrasing had her breath hitch, and her cheeks felt bruised from the heat of the blush. To even allow herself the picture of waking alongside him was staggering. It seemed a mirage, illusions in a heat haze, wonderful and distant and maybe impossible to reach... But somehow it seemed to be permitted, if only just for now, to consider the 'what if' and the obstacles.
Lifting a hand to softly touch Harper's cheek, Maea closed her eyes. Tried to make sense of the jumble of her thoughts that skittered about like silver minnows. Notions, impressions, fragments of ideas - all the things that formed her personality and values and needs - scattering whenever she tried to put words on them. Mostly she just felt overwhelmed. Scared at how suddenly this was happening, how a simple desire to spend more time with this person was turning into a game of matching seashells, to see if and how they might fit. Was she making promises she wouldn't be able to keep again? Would she become the one to ultimately destroy this kind, warm-hearted man? That thought alone nearly had her sobbing in despair; when had her hands ever failed to do more harm than good to anyone?
And yet... it had never been so tempting to reach for what he almost, maybe, possibly could be offering.
Tension was building up within her again. To shake it before it could tongue-tie her, Maea tightened the tail-grasp in a squeeze, and brushed the pad of her thumb along his cheekbone, and slowly eased herself back to sit up.
"... do you want to see the orchard?" she asked, after a deep breath; a touch pleading, hoping he would catch her need to move. It was easier to think on her feet. Easier to speak when the gaze could wander over unimportant things like apple trees and wildflowers, instead of getting lost in the depth of his eyes.
maea
