Honey wherever you go, I know
He doesn't need more than this—just her. Just the weight of her, the clutch of her hands, the warmth of her breath. Just the voice that comes from her lips, not always spoken, but no less loud for it. Each one she provides is another attempt to resuscitate him, pulling him back from the cold finality that started to set. She gives herself, bringing life back to the curl of his fingers, resetting the pattern of his heartbeat, filling all the spaces that had started to empty.
It's the smile that blooms through the salt though, growing in conditions that should be impossible, that really makes him certain that her love has taken root. When he searches her face now, it's not him looking for something, but the admiration of what's been fully realized and found. Her words hum through him like the jolt that Frankenstein's monster needed, sparking so intensely in his chest that he has to rise with it. Feelings swell too large within him, cresting as he sits with her like he had when he'd first started breaking, but the disbelief and the threat of tears he wears now are the sort when happiness is so big it forces you to ache with it. "No," he agrees, the sound rough with the texture of too much emotion. "You aren't."
As it crashes through him he takes them both down with it, rolling her around and beneath him. It settles, flooding into every crack and seam, and with it he sinks further onto her. He kisses every tear track, as though each one can be undone by his devotion, a vow to love her through every moment, salted or not. One hand skims up her side, fingers digging in with quiet possession, because if she's giving herself to him, he will never let go again, not like on the Sugar Tide. "Always you, Flora. Only you," he whispers, his other hand supporting him near her head, thumb running along the edge of her face with slow reverence.
It's the smile that blooms through the salt though, growing in conditions that should be impossible, that really makes him certain that her love has taken root. When he searches her face now, it's not him looking for something, but the admiration of what's been fully realized and found. Her words hum through him like the jolt that Frankenstein's monster needed, sparking so intensely in his chest that he has to rise with it. Feelings swell too large within him, cresting as he sits with her like he had when he'd first started breaking, but the disbelief and the threat of tears he wears now are the sort when happiness is so big it forces you to ache with it. "No," he agrees, the sound rough with the texture of too much emotion. "You aren't."
As it crashes through him he takes them both down with it, rolling her around and beneath him. It settles, flooding into every crack and seam, and with it he sinks further onto her. He kisses every tear track, as though each one can be undone by his devotion, a vow to love her through every moment, salted or not. One hand skims up her side, fingers digging in with quiet possession, because if she's giving herself to him, he will never let go again, not like on the Sugar Tide. "Always you, Flora. Only you," he whispers, his other hand supporting him near her head, thumb running along the edge of her face with slow reverence.
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
