Tell the tales of the trail of dead
Lovers learned from slower hands
Lovers learned from slower hands
Despite her claims to the contrary, Maea seemed drawn to the flames at Liam’s back. Finishing his chopping, he watched as she approached, then stuck her hands directly into the fire. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to that - the casual way with which she handled flames, they way they danced over her skin like they were greeting an old friend.
He realized he’d paused, frozen, as he watched her, and cleared his throat uncomfortably as he picked up the chopping board and slipped the carrots into the pot of stew. ”Sure,” he said, holding out the board for her to take. ”There’s an onion over there you can chop, if you want. I’ll get some herbs and spices.”
It was an oddly domestic scene as they shared space in the kitchen, but Liam was struck by how peaceful and comfortable it was. Was it the rose’s influence that had them relaxing so, or was this just where their relationship had gotten to? Did it even matter?
He realized he’d paused, frozen, as he watched her, and cleared his throat uncomfortably as he picked up the chopping board and slipped the carrots into the pot of stew. ”Sure,” he said, holding out the board for her to take. ”There’s an onion over there you can chop, if you want. I’ll get some herbs and spices.”
It was an oddly domestic scene as they shared space in the kitchen, but Liam was struck by how peaceful and comfortable it was. Was it the rose’s influence that had them relaxing so, or was this just where their relationship had gotten to? Did it even matter?
Losing self in myself
And my demons make demands
And my demons make demands
Liam
