Aurelia
I wanna heal, I wanna feel
like I'm close to something real
like I'm close to something real
She'd agree that it all ends too soon, even though she's suddenly wrapped up in the gift he's given her. Yes, it prompts a mixture of emotions from her, but all of them are pleasant. Surprised happiness mixed with confusion is likely the best way to describe her expression.
Aurelia almost misses the curved grin that sweeps over his face, but she spies it from the corner of her eyes. They lift, if reluctantly, to regard him as he explains to her how he'd come up with such a precise gift. Her lips transform into a wide smile, one that covers her whole face. And it's all she can do to tell him that they're perfect, because they are. This is the best gift he could've possibly given her, especially in this moment. Even if that part was unintentional, even if he's ignorant to the storm that had just waged war on her mind, she appreciates it all the more.
There will be a time and a place to truly understand the potential of these weapons. But it's not here and it's not now. So she sets them carefully back into the box. Still, she can't help but to admire them for another moment. "I love them," she confirms, tilting her head to look over at him. "You have no idea." She grins, then, and extends gentle hands towards him, to welcome him into her grasp.
She might be war-torn, and she might be frayed from such plights, but she is still capable of traversing tender moments like these.
Should he let her, she'll guide her fingers around his skin and pull him into another kiss. This one is shorter, sweeter, and she punctuates it with, "Thank you. Really." Her gaze craves his bronze hues in that moment, to let her gratitude sink in, to let him feel the fire pouring from her in that brief moment. She's glad to share it with him.
Then, she's grabbing one of his arms and pulling him along. It's a grip she only releases once they've returned to her backpack, to the counter that it rests beside. She proceeds to rummage through his kitchen area to find two glasses, setting them upon the counter pointedly. After a moment, she also spreads the orange (now peeled and parted) out on a plate. It's more for cleansing the palate than anything; a chaser.
"I also made you this," she reaches into the bag, revealing a large bottle of wine. She doesn't hesitate to pour some of it into their respective glasses, and it comes out in a lighter color. She turns, presenting him his glass. "I think you'll like it," she winks at him and reaches out to clink her glass against his, should he accept.
Should he try it, he'll find the taste to be very familiar because the wine has been made from none other than rambutan. It's quite fresh so its flavor is still sweet and more reminiscent of the fruit rather than aged alcohol. It's been accented with cinnamon, as well.
"So... you can heal," she lifts her brows from the drink and leans against the counter with a smile, "I guess you're not a fighter after all, huh?"
Aurelia almost misses the curved grin that sweeps over his face, but she spies it from the corner of her eyes. They lift, if reluctantly, to regard him as he explains to her how he'd come up with such a precise gift. Her lips transform into a wide smile, one that covers her whole face. And it's all she can do to tell him that they're perfect, because they are. This is the best gift he could've possibly given her, especially in this moment. Even if that part was unintentional, even if he's ignorant to the storm that had just waged war on her mind, she appreciates it all the more.
There will be a time and a place to truly understand the potential of these weapons. But it's not here and it's not now. So she sets them carefully back into the box. Still, she can't help but to admire them for another moment. "I love them," she confirms, tilting her head to look over at him. "You have no idea." She grins, then, and extends gentle hands towards him, to welcome him into her grasp.
She might be war-torn, and she might be frayed from such plights, but she is still capable of traversing tender moments like these.
Should he let her, she'll guide her fingers around his skin and pull him into another kiss. This one is shorter, sweeter, and she punctuates it with, "Thank you. Really." Her gaze craves his bronze hues in that moment, to let her gratitude sink in, to let him feel the fire pouring from her in that brief moment. She's glad to share it with him.
Then, she's grabbing one of his arms and pulling him along. It's a grip she only releases once they've returned to her backpack, to the counter that it rests beside. She proceeds to rummage through his kitchen area to find two glasses, setting them upon the counter pointedly. After a moment, she also spreads the orange (now peeled and parted) out on a plate. It's more for cleansing the palate than anything; a chaser.
"I also made you this," she reaches into the bag, revealing a large bottle of wine. She doesn't hesitate to pour some of it into their respective glasses, and it comes out in a lighter color. She turns, presenting him his glass. "I think you'll like it," she winks at him and reaches out to clink her glass against his, should he accept.
Should he try it, he'll find the taste to be very familiar because the wine has been made from none other than rambutan. It's quite fresh so its flavor is still sweet and more reminiscent of the fruit rather than aged alcohol. It's been accented with cinnamon, as well.
"So... you can heal," she lifts her brows from the drink and leans against the counter with a smile, "I guess you're not a fighter after all, huh?"
I wanna find something I've wanted all along
somewhere to belong
somewhere to belong
code credits go to Skylark!<3
