the stars lined our heartbeats
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,191
MP:
#1
Deimos
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
Halcyon days, gilded and mantled, finally christened and crowned again, leaving behind the woebegone tides of LongNight and the dreaded wiles of the future. Too often he’d lived and immersed himself within those granules of the past, torturous, treacherous, meticulous assignations, and too often he’d embedded himself in the parables and possibilities of ominous tidings. But these moments were for savoring, for relishing, for reaching out and cherishing; things he’d never thought he’d be able to do again. The alterations were in sunshine and rays, in stars and galaxies, in bristling, simmering, smoldering lacquer, rapacious and ravenous in the way they’d reshaped, carved, whittled the harsh denizens, the nefarious properties, straight into their roots, instead of harshly laden along his presence; manifestations of hearts and lungs and souls, instead of violence, instead of vitriol, instead of ash, embers, cinders, and dust. No longer so broken. No longer so tired. No longer so damned.

So the Sword left behind the likelihood and probabilities of others asking him for more favors, for more assistance, for advice, for sagacity, for anything and everything, crossing across the earth, not a long, harsh divide this time, towards the bakery stall. The latter year’s precipices had seemed daunting, the lightest of teasings, the smallest of torments, of taunts, of furtive nuances bristling beneath skin, flesh, and bone, locked away, away, away, for fear of ghosts, for apprehension of chances and circumstances. Everything else lodged and disguised, perhaps poorly, by the hour he’d come to barter for bread, harbored secrets and tendencies, hidden, rooted affections strangers had glimpsed over. Then dances, then tricks, then ruses, then new sojourns, new life, new breaths, new cataclysms and machinations for a beating, nefarious heart.

And what did he have to conceal now? Nothing.

Too massive to shirk around anything, too mischievous to warrant cloak and dagger tendencies, too emboldened to cease and desist, Deimos abandoned his guild stall to another, and threaded his way behind the kiosk – enveloped by aromas, by scents, and by the maneuvers of others working the booth. Parting the sea of movement and motion, shunning, evading, everything but her, he announced his presence by dropping his head on top of her golden one, arms reaching around to snag, to possibly steal away, away, away. “Hello,” a rumble, a storm, a wayfaring tempest speaking only of amusement and diversions.
keep the ones who
h e a r d y o u
when you never said a word
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 36 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 36
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,202
MP:
#2
she didn't want to love
she wanted to b e l o v e d
and that was entirely different
Moving, smiling, singing, serving- it is easier to keep busy this year, and so much harder, too. Where in the past the girl felt heavy today her shoulders are light; where once she shied away to shadow today she reaches toward the sun. There is unrestrained vibrancy in her smile, brilliance in the flash of her eyes; there is passion flickering in her breast for him, for him, for him.

She checks in on her stall from time to time, stepping back behind the counter, straightening shelves, investigating wares. She is never looking at it, though; her mind remains fixed on the crowd, the familiar faces of family and friends. And lovers-- such a novel thought, even now, a full year on.

One year- it's astounding, really, how long and brief that year has been. At times it feels like a moment, at others a lifetime of his smiles. He found her then and he finds her now, appearing behind her in a stretch of arms and a lowered head, sliding around her as comfortably as any cloak or sheet. She cannot help it; she laughs at his onslaught, merry and mirthful, her slender arms crossing delicately over his, long fingers entangling against his own.

Contented and inspired, ensnared and enamoured, Amalia does not fight his embrace. "Hi," she breathes in easy response, her alto voice accented by the rumbling of her chest as she alters her lungs to allow a deep purr. "Are you enjoying the festival this year?"
Amalia
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,191
MP:
#3
Deimos
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
Brief indeed; fleeting at times, meandering in others, spirals and cycles and circles of so many events conspired and revolving, whether it be abductions, rebellions, Spire visits, near death experiences, or LongNight preparations. The moments rarely stilled, between desperation to save the world, and strangled endeavors, consistently drumming and orchestrating, planning and calculating, the rush, the frenzy, the flurry of movement – and perhaps the only time he could rest, truly sink into anything beyond scheming and meddling, creating and contorting, had been here, with her. Here he could breathe. Here he could enjoy. Here he could revel.

Intertwined, wound, entangled, woven, snagged and snared, a quiet smirk rendered on his features when neither of them struggled or strived to step away, pressed and placed along the ethers of their embrace. Instead there was laughter, and he could not remember a time where he felt much lighter, save for perhaps last year’s occasions, not buried, not burrowed, not hollowed out or caving in. His shoulders carried cumbersome loads but they weren’t daunted, his spine conquered, his movements devoured, and his soul failed to succumb to the pressures of every day – not here, not now, not when the sun beat and the music resounded and they were tucked together, in the here, in the now.

The Sword’s breath pooled in fluid, easy ministrations, voice echoing her rumbling purr, connotations and fervency expressed in the deeper ricochets coiling through his chest. “Yes. Are you?” a chuckle, a raw laugh accompanying, light movements intentionally pulling, capturing, tugging her backwards, into his chest, away from the stall, away from the rush of strangers, from the things that always pushed and pulled at them. “But what would make it better?” Another tease and taunt, lips resting somewhere above the shell of her ear, before retreating, head back the top of hers.
keep the ones who
h e a r d y o u
when you never said a word
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 36 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 36
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,202
MP:
#4
she didn't want to love
she wanted to b e l o v e d
and that was entirely different
She has to know what he does to her: the way her breath quickens at his voice against her ear; the heat that rises from her neck; the thundering of her tremulous heart as he pulls her further into his embrace. "I am," she exhales, breathless, breathy, leaning her gold head against him, her face tilting inevitably toward his own. A willing captive, obedient and ardent, she follows his gently guiding hands, abandoning stalls and responsibility in favor of the sunlight in his stare.

He asks her what would make it better: nothing, she bites back, hides beneath pearly teeth, though were she pressed it would be the truth. And yet so easy an answer is not the game, the mischief began in this very spot. A year ago he stole her into dancing; a year ago she took his heart, keeping it among her most prized victories, guarding and adoring it as best she can.

Humming, purring, the girl considers his question, swaying serenely in his arms. "Mmm." She shivers underneath his whisper, the stimulation of her sensitive ears igniting a fire deep within her soul. "I can think of one or two things. Food. Games." She spins around in his arms then, peering up through glittering black eyes. "A dance, if I could find the right partner."
Amalia
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,191
MP:
#5
Deimos
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
Escape and evasion, twisting away from the confines of stalls and kiosks, drifting, drifting, drifting on their own whims and vestiges, smoke and fumes, devotion and affection, an ardent preamble reserved only for her. There was a tangible amount of indifference coiled in his thoughts – for anyone hunting or searching for them, for anyone requiring their aid, for anyone needing their assistance – all the more content to ignore, to detach, to spread apathy in their haze, orchestrating his entire focus, his undivided attention on these moments, on these small, sparse instances they could snag and ensnare for themselves. Perhaps they were greedy, rapacious, ravenous intentions, but breathless entanglements, willing compatriots, her in his arms, golden and gilded, bright and warm, naught else mattered. They’d earned their rewards, their diversions, and their amusements; let the world carry on without their mettle, without their meddling, for an instant.

Mischief, persistent portions in their evolving roles, garnished and extended in the extension of her smile, and he angled it back; bemusement settling along the corners of his mouth, the slightest, boyish dimples on the depths of his cheeks. Recognition of a forthcoming tease intertwined with her shudders, and for half a second he considered pressing further, behind her ear, along her nape, on their infernal reach of scorching distinctions. The Sword was only distracted from the nuances as she spun along in his arms, and he faced obsidian eyes – glinting bestowals of galaxies and moons and stars – easily lost somewhere in their expanse. “Maybe we can find someone.” Rumbling intonations of baiting, goading contributions, the devilry evident in his gaze, before ensuring it would be him, weaving, interlacing fingers and hands together, and maneuvering their way towards those distinct perimeters (where they’d once rampaged and dueled and played until there was a certainty neither would be abandoned again).
keep the ones who
h e a r d y o u
when you never said a word
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 36 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 36
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,202
MP:
#6
she didn't want to love
she wanted to b e l o v e d
and that was entirely different
His fingers tuck within her own, his larger hand somehow fitting perfectly against her palm (how?) despite their differences in size and breed, the histories that divide them, the strangeness they both wield. Amalia does not possess magic, has never felt power at her fingertips or lurking beneath her skin: but she thinks that it must feel like this, the electricity which ignites her at his softest caress, the searing heat from anticipation as they dance and tease and cast their spells, each deep within the other's web.

There is magic in love, Amalia thinks as she follows, her hand entrapped by his. There is power to build and to destroy in the songs sung by their heartstrings, a terrible beauty in their euphony, a thunderous wound when they strike cacophony.

To edges of fields, to perimeters of dance floors, to the very ends of the earth. Like a shadow, a wraith, she drifts behind, her angular expression luminous, her dark eyes bright as a summer sun. "I'm very particular about my partners," she says in response, her alto voice lilting as they draw to a stop. Tilting her head she draws back from him, affecting a posture of mock seriousness (her hand does not let go of his, for fear the spell will break). "They would have to prove themselves on the field of battle, before they could win a dance."
Amalia
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,191
MP:
#7
Deimos
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
This force was bewitching, enticing, and alluring, drawn deep within him like a well, in danger of overflowing. He knew the tastes of affection, the relishing, savoring contortions of devotion, wanted and craved and loved it over and over and over again – a brand of fervency all their own. He cherished their teasing and he sunk into their barbs without a care, taking and snaring and snagging on what he could have, on what she’d grant, on what he could offer in return. Different they might have been, the better for it – and still fervent, still rapacious, still ravenous along their fissures, furies, and ventures. Deimos was blessed and knew it, understood it, but couldn’t fathom how or why she would have bothered with dark things and nefarious beacons like him, torn between those columns of iniquity and stalwart regards, clustered, coiled, contorted in the mercurial whims of tempestuous storms. So he stood in her wake, in her light, in her earth, and basked for as long as he was able, for as long as she would permit, forgoing shadows for the lure, for the chance, for the opportunity to be a figment in her orbit.

Like here, like now, in the passing breaths and perimeters of dances, the music striking, lilting, reveries and filaments of yesteryear billowing over his surface; not so broken, not so haunted, not so forlorn in the press and depths of her grace. He didn’t let go (wouldn’t) as she drifted behind, as he glanced over his shoulder, as he strived to maneuver her alongside him, a curious entanglement of bemusement caught on his features. Then she ceased, a lilting, taunting song, one for him, for him, for him, that he caught and lined along his ribs. “That would narrow down your options.” It earned her a laugh too, one so rarely carefree it surprised him, but warm and inviting all the same. A brow arched thereafter, and his face went purposefully stoic, pretenses hinged on their preamble, on their preludes, to ongoing volleys and ridiculous accords. “Are there any other qualifications?”
keep the ones who
h e a r d y o u
when you never said a word
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 36 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 36
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,202
MP:
#8
she didn't want to love
she wanted to b e l o v e d
and that was entirely different
Fingers in fingers, hands and hearts entwined; her thumb presses over his knuckles, his palm, thoughtless caresses that come like second nature, kisses of skin and the comfort of touch. His smile is bewitching, his laugh even moreso; it takes all she has not to lean in against him, to abandon the ruse and declare him the victor, always content to fall into his snares.

Instead she exhales a long, languid note, raising their clasped hands and turning beneath them so she faces out into the thick, milling crowd. "Hmm... He has to be able to make me laugh. Muscles are a plus, I suppose." Her shrug suggests she's thinking off the cuff, though her shielded smile says anything but. "He has to be bold, but not arrogant. Kind, but principled. Generous. In every way." The fierce blush that climbs up her cheeks betrays a scandalous implications, a rare innuendo from her innocent tongue.

Somewhere musicians pick up a quicker pace, their tune dancing merrily through the air and compelling her to tap her feet. Turning to look back over her shoulder, she fixes Deimos with a vibrant smile. "Do you know anyone like that, General Ignatius?"
Amalia
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,191
MP:
#9
Deimos
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
He might face the crowd but truly didn’t see anyone else but her – they were a blur of faces and a sea of figures, spinning and whirling, backgrounds, backdrops, scenery otherwise beneath his notice. For all the careful planning and orchestrating they’d done days before, it didn’t matter to him in the slightest now, adrift and keen on only her ministrations, her touches, her existence. The Sword took the ruse and reveled in it, arching a brow at the nature of their follies, the tricks and reveries of their trades, bemused, striving and struggling to maintain the nonchalant focus on his features (not one of his usual dilemmas). A portion of him yearned to disregard some of her notations (kind? – the Reaper would’ve shuddered and hid) on mere principle, and perhaps she’d thought of that too, left it out into the void so he couldn’t comment on it. Instead, he snorted, only a very casual side-eye in her direction at the notions of generosity in every way and the blush rising along her cheeks – an inward smugness he made sure not to exhibit in the open. “Where on earth would you find such a person?” As if it were a rarity – except perhaps not at all – this world vast and wide in its beneficence, how he’d come to be accepted and invited into their circles, into their throngs, into their masses in the first place. Very few had ever dared anywhere else. An even rarer conviction was adoration for his wicked, unrelenting soul.

Adamant refusal of his few virtues had always been par for the course and routine; another cheeky smirk curling along his mouth; no use hiding in the midst of their banter. “I do not.” Then he leaned a little closer, bending slightly, so his piercing eyes met hers, a flame in his ardency and ruffian insurrection, hands still raised, still clasped together. “Would you settle for me?”
keep the ones who
h e a r d y o u
when you never said a word
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 36 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 36
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,202
MP:
#10
she didn't want to love
she wanted to b e l o v e d
and that was entirely different
"I don't know. Perhaps it's a lost cause." Sighing, dramatic, but not with much conviction- Amalia has never been one to hold a ruse for long. Her dedication to the farce is admirable, but faltering, serious facade of the long-suffering debutante giving way to the softness of an adoring beloved. She knows he does not see himself in the things she says, but they are true: he is all of them and more to her, and to any who would care to look. If she cannot be his equal then perhaps she can be his mirror, doing her utmost to reflect back upon him the light he effortlessly casts.

Laughing as he pulls her close, Amalia succumbs to his embrace, hands still clasped and black eyes bright as they fall so far into his blue. "I don't believe in settling," she announces, her voice playful and teasing and singsong, golden head shaking in mock rebuttal. "If you want a dance, sir, you have to earn it. But you're resourceful; I'm sure you can think of a way."
Amalia
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,191
MP:
#11
Deimos
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
He shrugged; a fair enough assignation, enticed to pull the farces and pretenses into some other conflagration, penchant for the ridiculous, a drifting away to see if she’d chase, wandering into the midst and throng, or disappearing into the crowd. The teasing plumed in another direction though, despite their clasped hands, a juxtaposition of their ruses and schemes, both eternally strung in either’s accord. He was half-tempted to smirk, snicker, and then proclaim she could earn his (except she wouldn’t have to do anything at all, already immersed into the sanctions of his melted, thawed heart), mockingly affronted by the rebuttal and rejection (but still; a sting in there somewhere, because maybe after all this time he still hadn’t been enough, and it was a thorn, a nettle, sticking into his side).

As if he’d been flicked upon the nose, the Sword’s head reeled back in feigned hurt, eyes cast back onto the looming crowd; hands never leaving hers. When the piercing depths eventually roamed and returned to her brightened ones, studying, scrutinizing, and narrowing, a rumble of his voice resounded and ricocheted; a deeper whisper, hushed reverberations for only her ears, her thoughts, her musings. “What do you desire?” Taunting, teasing, and purposefully tempting, uncertain if he should be out there stealing more flower crowns or bombarding the general public like they’d done in the previous year.
keep the ones who
h e a r d y o u
when you never said a word
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 36 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 36
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,202
MP:
#12
she didn't want to love
she wanted to b e l o v e d
and that was entirely different
He recoils in mock affront and already the Shield misses him, yearns to reclaim the proximity, the feeling of his breath upon her neck, his heartbeat on her chest. Never patient, ever greedy, she will not give him room to escape - she made that offer a year ago, opened doors and windows for him to leap through, implored him to free himself from her before he became entrenched, entwined.

And now? Now it is too late for him to evade. He is hers, and she is a jealous beast, loyal and loving and fierce as the sun.

Hands slip at last from his fingers to trail their way up scar-crossed arms, over muscles, slowly, slowly, inching ever toward the light. With each passing moment she pulls herself closer, anchors him to her in the raging storm: until their bodies are pressed together, until her hands are in his hair, until she stands upon her tiptoes and pulls his face down to her lips. Dark eyes flicker twixt vibrant blue ones; a flush burns copper on her cheeks. "You," she whispers, breathes, beseeches, begging him to steal her into a kiss.
Amalia
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,191
MP:
#13
Deimos
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in
He wouldn’t have attempted true escape, no evasion, no eluding, no dodging; there without traps or snares, save for the bearings and light binding (blinding; couldn’t, wouldn’t, look away from the sun) him to the sanction and sanctum of their infernal play. That was long gone, back along Reaper intentions, where the apathy, the nonchalance, had chiseled so firmly into his soul that only a few ever found fissures or cracks. But here the Shield had emblazoned him so thoroughly that he was intertwined with all these antics, all these missions, all these interludes, and never spared a thought into drawing the locks, the scabbards, the walls around him. Wild and bereft, save for her, stripped down to the enamel of stalwart or resolute convictions, to ferocity and promises, away, away, away from the condemnation and oblivions that had once chained and rooted him into hell. Saved, perhaps, from the wicked maelstroms, from the hostile maneuvers, from anything else that might have blended him straight back into malevolence.

Deimos must have said the right thing, or she’d had enough; her hands sliding over his skin, undulations and inward ripples doing something to his chest, to his ribs, to his lungs. He allowed her, hardly moving save for the slightest arch of his brow, a dare in the piercing sway of his eyes – almost laughing at how slowly, intricately, she deigned, when it was usually him, when she routinely raced on impulse. But then they were together, and his breath loosened in relief, heartbeats lined in rhythms and storms, in intimate whims, in ravenous declarations, the billowing exhale drifting like a ghost over her lips; a purr in the back of his throat when her hands tangled their way into his hair. His answer was in silence, in connections, in bonds far greater, far grander than mere attuned accords. Already yours; a beckon, a croon, a rumbling whisper, as his mouth slid over hers; intoxicating and indulgent.
keep the ones who
h e a r d y o u
when you never said a word
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 36 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 36
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,202
MP:
#14
she didn't want to love
she wanted to b e l o v e d
and that was entirely different
Can he hear her heartbeat speeding up as the space between their faces closes; can he feel her thunderous, wondering abandon, the adoration burning behind her closed eyes? The heat of his lips is fire and ice, burning and healing simultaneously; she slips her tongue in, hungry and feverish, wanting all she can have now the bulwarks have broken. Fingers knot tighter into his hair, yearning, taking, careless for who may see or what they may think- all she knows is him.

At last she stops to take a breath, drawing away, releasing her grip- only enough to let the air in, never enough that he might escape. Deimos, her voice for him alone, more intimate than whispers, soul speaking to soul. Smiling, drawing back, suddenly shy, she turns dark eyes up to his handsome face. "I have something for you. Do you want it now?"

The clear anticipation and anxiety in her voice expresses just how eagerly she wants him to want it, how dearly she hopes it will not be in vain.
Amalia
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the
l i g h t gets in


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