Honey wherever you go, I know
He doesn't need to hear another word from her—this tells him everything, feeding every hope she's lit until it's too bright to look at properly. It cracks back open that night, the one where he'd actually had her, the one that ruined the possibility of anything else for him. More fool him for trying to shut his eyes to it.
Every carefully drawn dream stretched into reality, every whispered want given to the night, every taste of forever claimed in the corners of her mouth—they all come rushing back. The thread of her fingers in his hair spills the moments across his mind like sand knocked from a jar, each granule a tiny breath he'd coaxed from her echoing across him. The subtle shift she takes towards him now is an image of her slouching down on the bench with him, hardship chased away with gummy worms and fingers lacing together over the distance of a kitchenette. Her tiptoe reach, pressing into him with a stronger version of the maybe she'd first offered, is the unmistakable instant where he fell too far to ever return.
His hands lower to each side of her thighs, grabbing around them, cupping under her ass to hoist her up, seating her against his waist without breaking the magic of her mouth. He wants to pull her as close as he can, to hold her like he's always wanted, completely and irrevocably. Breath feels useless—an interruption—if it means he has to let go of this. He might have risked the encroaching dark spots on the edge of his vision if not for the words he wants to ensure she hears in all the ways his lips can say it.
"I won't leave you," he whispers, rough with the drag of breath set into the fraction of space he relents in order to look at her. "I'm here," he promises, soft but steady, "with you." His gaze is unflinching, vibrant with the reflection of her. "I love you, Flora." Not said with the affectionate, short-handed roll of friendship like before. Not said offhand, like it's already known and trusted. This one, he says to her, raw as it leaves him because he pours as much of himself into it as he can manage while still keeping them upright.
Suddenly, turning his head fully to the side, he sucks in a deep breath and lets the world have it too. "I LOVE FLORA KAITO-TALIESIN!" He declares it to the market with as much volume as he can muster.
Every carefully drawn dream stretched into reality, every whispered want given to the night, every taste of forever claimed in the corners of her mouth—they all come rushing back. The thread of her fingers in his hair spills the moments across his mind like sand knocked from a jar, each granule a tiny breath he'd coaxed from her echoing across him. The subtle shift she takes towards him now is an image of her slouching down on the bench with him, hardship chased away with gummy worms and fingers lacing together over the distance of a kitchenette. Her tiptoe reach, pressing into him with a stronger version of the maybe she'd first offered, is the unmistakable instant where he fell too far to ever return.
His hands lower to each side of her thighs, grabbing around them, cupping under her ass to hoist her up, seating her against his waist without breaking the magic of her mouth. He wants to pull her as close as he can, to hold her like he's always wanted, completely and irrevocably. Breath feels useless—an interruption—if it means he has to let go of this. He might have risked the encroaching dark spots on the edge of his vision if not for the words he wants to ensure she hears in all the ways his lips can say it.
"I won't leave you," he whispers, rough with the drag of breath set into the fraction of space he relents in order to look at her. "I'm here," he promises, soft but steady, "with you." His gaze is unflinching, vibrant with the reflection of her. "I love you, Flora." Not said with the affectionate, short-handed roll of friendship like before. Not said offhand, like it's already known and trusted. This one, he says to her, raw as it leaves him because he pours as much of himself into it as he can manage while still keeping them upright.
Suddenly, turning his head fully to the side, he sucks in a deep breath and lets the world have it too. "I LOVE FLORA KAITO-TALIESIN!" He declares it to the market with as much volume as he can muster.
Kaisel
I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
