Evie
“Everywhere?” Her grin is unapologetic, freckles and pale ginger lashes illuminated by colorful light. “The nursery for sure, the lights are much dimmer. Our bedroom too?” Sincere consideration swiftly morphs into mischief in the span of a breath, keen on the idea of seeing how pretty he is beneath their glow in a very different way.
Flirtatious notions and engagement celebrations alike are swept away like smoke by the revelation he shares. It will be a miracle if she can remember their banter at all. Right now he is solid and familiar in her arms, and for the first time she can know him on a level that touch and sight can’t hope to provide. Every vein, ligament, and cell is a pathway for her magic to journey through, connecting her oldest magic - her true sense of self, her intrinsic purpose in life - to the man she loves. It makes her chest shake with stilted gasps and hiccups that veer between delight and overwhelm.
Every individual’s magic is like a fingerprint, intimately unique, and Deimos’ soft utterance has her exhaling shakily and hiding her pink face against his skin. Beautiful. Her magic - the one she was born with, the one that holds the true essence of her soul more than any other - is beautiful to him. She is beautiful to him.
She doesn’t need to reach for his pulse anymore to tell herself he’s okay - her magic has touched each valve and artery of his strong heart, and she’ll never have to be uncertain again. “We have a lifetime to make up for lost time,” she reassures, though her voice is thick and equally muffled by how tightly she’s holding him. Zuriel will grow sick of Evie immediately because the Evergreen knows every scrape, cut, and bruise will have her racing to mend them for the next few seasons. Maybe forever, because she never wants to forget how lucky she is to have this, to be able to safeguard not only his heart but his life.
Flirtatious notions and engagement celebrations alike are swept away like smoke by the revelation he shares. It will be a miracle if she can remember their banter at all. Right now he is solid and familiar in her arms, and for the first time she can know him on a level that touch and sight can’t hope to provide. Every vein, ligament, and cell is a pathway for her magic to journey through, connecting her oldest magic - her true sense of self, her intrinsic purpose in life - to the man she loves. It makes her chest shake with stilted gasps and hiccups that veer between delight and overwhelm.
Every individual’s magic is like a fingerprint, intimately unique, and Deimos’ soft utterance has her exhaling shakily and hiding her pink face against his skin. Beautiful. Her magic - the one she was born with, the one that holds the true essence of her soul more than any other - is beautiful to him. She is beautiful to him.
She doesn’t need to reach for his pulse anymore to tell herself he’s okay - her magic has touched each valve and artery of his strong heart, and she’ll never have to be uncertain again. “We have a lifetime to make up for lost time,” she reassures, though her voice is thick and equally muffled by how tightly she’s holding him. Zuriel will grow sick of Evie immediately because the Evergreen knows every scrape, cut, and bruise will have her racing to mend them for the next few seasons. Maybe forever, because she never wants to forget how lucky she is to have this, to be able to safeguard not only his heart but his life.
Come meet me at the comedown
When no one's talkin' about you at all
When no one's talkin' about you at all
