Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
"Tomorrow it is." Shoving down the dregs of anxiety that inevitably reared its ugly head whenever she made these kinds of life altering decisions, Maea closed her eyes, trying instead to picture it; Liam moving about the Treehouse with the ease of one who belonged, as intrinsically as the facade or a shingle of the roof. It wasn't hard to do; if he'd ever been awkward in her space it hadn't shown, and as far as she was concerned, he'd ceased being a stranger a long time ago. If she was nervous now, it was only because she'd gained another treasure that needed defending. Something else she could lose, a strength and a weakness wrapped neatly into the shape of a golden-haired man who, for some inexplicable reason, had chosen her above all the beautiful women of this world. Getting tired of my own words
Drunk on a joy that banished all else, she twisted around in Liam's arms and slid milky white arms around his neck, and kissed him slowly, savoring the soft warmth of his lips. If the bath was doing wonders to relax her body, then he was soothing her frazzled mind, steadying her and reaffirming that she had indeed, finally, definitely returned home. After too many close calls, too many brash and thoughtless actions, and a brush with near death as a result, it was a much needed return to safety - one she had no intention of squandering again.
"To think it's already been a year..." Letting out a quiet breath, Maea nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. "I don't think I want to go anywhere else this Deepfrost. I'll just stay here.."
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
