Loathe the way they light candles in Rome
But love the sweet air of the votives
But love the sweet air of the votives
She doesn't push forward. Neither does she retreat. Koa is left in weightless suspense, caught in the eddies and whirlpools of hormone and emotion. Does she want him? Does she not? His hand is on her face now, unbidden and unasked for; he brushes his thumb across her cheek and marvels at the smoothness of her skin, like silk or a spiderweb.
They can't go on like this. He can't go on like this. "Don't make me say it," Koa pleads, his voice a throaty whisper only for her. Pulling back far enough to meet her eyes, the young man fixes Sohalia with a searching gaze, hot as a vein of molten copper, desperate to be tempered and formed. "You have to know what you do to me, Soh- what you've always done, ever since the day we met." The pad of his thumb drops lower, now, tenderly caressing the border of her lip. "I thought I could take it, but I..."
His voice falters; he trails off, exhaling a shuddering breath as both eyes and hand drop down. When Koa looks back up at her it is with the echo of a melancholic smile, his expressive face ripe with the agony of youthful romance, of hope and resignation, of rainstorms and sun. "I'm weak, I guess. I've always been weak, when it comes to you."
They can't go on like this. He can't go on like this. "Don't make me say it," Koa pleads, his voice a throaty whisper only for her. Pulling back far enough to meet her eyes, the young man fixes Sohalia with a searching gaze, hot as a vein of molten copper, desperate to be tempered and formed. "You have to know what you do to me, Soh- what you've always done, ever since the day we met." The pad of his thumb drops lower, now, tenderly caressing the border of her lip. "I thought I could take it, but I..."
His voice falters; he trails off, exhaling a shuddering breath as both eyes and hand drop down. When Koa looks back up at her it is with the echo of a melancholic smile, his expressive face ripe with the agony of youthful romance, of hope and resignation, of rainstorms and sun. "I'm weak, I guess. I've always been weak, when it comes to you."
Koa Carpenter
Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone
Engage with the pain as a motive
Engage with the pain as a motive
