Maea
The worst of all blessings
It was only the second time they hugged like this, and the first when it was not in response to near-death situations and necessity. Yet the impulse had been irresistible, and now that she was in his arms with hot breath tickling her throat and those golden, sun-bleached curls draping like silk over her hands, there was no room for awkwardness. Later she would marvel at her own forwardness, and maybe die a little from giddy embarrassment as the memory replayed itself on the internal movie screen... but for now, caught up in the moment, all she felt was golden comfort and inextricable rightness. Like she'd been meant to be exactly here all along.
Easing her grip somewhat reluctantly, Maea's arms lingered in a loose drape around his neck as Liam shifted. Closing her eyes, she touched her nose to his with a little smile. "I bear witness," she replied, soft yet in the formal way of one accepting a vow. He didn't have to swear anything, but since he chose to she would help him keep his word, no matter what happened.
The longer they remained like that, sharing breath and trading confessions, the more real it became. A warm glow kindled somewhere near the center of her being, growing brighter as doubt and disbelief was banished one by one. "Mmh... as much as I'm thankful for you, maybe?" she breathed. "I was so sure I was deluding myself, just hearing what I wanted to when you said nice things... This is happening, right? I'm not dreaming...?" Had she truly not fallen between the pages into another sentient book, to repeat a story that could never be hers? It felt real, but so very sweet, so incredibly delightful that it had to be too good to be true.
Easing her grip somewhat reluctantly, Maea's arms lingered in a loose drape around his neck as Liam shifted. Closing her eyes, she touched her nose to his with a little smile. "I bear witness," she replied, soft yet in the formal way of one accepting a vow. He didn't have to swear anything, but since he chose to she would help him keep his word, no matter what happened.
The longer they remained like that, sharing breath and trading confessions, the more real it became. A warm glow kindled somewhere near the center of her being, growing brighter as doubt and disbelief was banished one by one. "Mmh... as much as I'm thankful for you, maybe?" she breathed. "I was so sure I was deluding myself, just hearing what I wanted to when you said nice things... This is happening, right? I'm not dreaming...?" Had she truly not fallen between the pages into another sentient book, to repeat a story that could never be hers? It felt real, but so very sweet, so incredibly delightful that it had to be too good to be true.
The most beautiful of curses
Base by Skylark
