Amalia
the shield of safrin
Adoration and absolution is the song of their morning: freedom, however brief, from the crushing oppression of not enough. With him as her armor Amalia can hide, withstand a few more blows than otherwise, revitalize her aching heart and reset her resolution. How long has she been so close to crumbling, and how often, and why? Weight upon weight she wears on her shoulders, never able to shed the first before another joins it, bearing ever further down.
But his eyes are like the ocean she has never seen, and when they smile down upon him the girl feels buoyant, as though a little of the weight is lifted, as though her bones may not yet break. He follows her as she rolls away, the steps of the dance well choreographed by now, curling her lips into marvelous mischief, a playful smirk in her onyx gaze. Slowly she raises a slender finger to trace the lines of his jaw, lazily stroking the bristled cheek as her dark eyes flick to his mouth and back. "And why would I ever want to do that?"
She rises up to meet his lips, her fingers tangling in his mane, hungry, yes, but gentle too, devotion in the ministrations of his lips. She wants him to feel how much she needs this, the brightness he brings into her life, and without consideration the Shield's mind opens, adoration let loose into the bond between them, and though she does not yet know if he can sense it it thrills her to know that one day he will.
Raising her knee to hold his body closer causes her shirt to rise up as well, the fabric lingering tantalizingly over her otherwise bare body, the lacing lightning bolt of scars flickering silver on her right hip and leg. She is nothing, however, compared to him: the towering and powerful physique will never fail to captivate her, and Amallia pulls away a moment to admire her lover in the light of the sun. "I love waking up to this," the baker whispers almost shyly, angular cheeks flushed with passion, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.
But his eyes are like the ocean she has never seen, and when they smile down upon him the girl feels buoyant, as though a little of the weight is lifted, as though her bones may not yet break. He follows her as she rolls away, the steps of the dance well choreographed by now, curling her lips into marvelous mischief, a playful smirk in her onyx gaze. Slowly she raises a slender finger to trace the lines of his jaw, lazily stroking the bristled cheek as her dark eyes flick to his mouth and back. "And why would I ever want to do that?"
She rises up to meet his lips, her fingers tangling in his mane, hungry, yes, but gentle too, devotion in the ministrations of his lips. She wants him to feel how much she needs this, the brightness he brings into her life, and without consideration the Shield's mind opens, adoration let loose into the bond between them, and though she does not yet know if he can sense it it thrills her to know that one day he will.
Raising her knee to hold his body closer causes her shirt to rise up as well, the fabric lingering tantalizingly over her otherwise bare body, the lacing lightning bolt of scars flickering silver on her right hip and leg. She is nothing, however, compared to him: the towering and powerful physique will never fail to captivate her, and Amallia pulls away a moment to admire her lover in the light of the sun. "I love waking up to this," the baker whispers almost shyly, angular cheeks flushed with passion, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.
you drew memories in my mind
i could never erase
you painted colors in my heart
i could never replace
