AmaLIa
shield of safrin
He is soft as a hymn, a prayer on her lips, the return of affection offering as much absolution as a visit to a shrine. But Amalia is not a timid worshipper: she is ardent in her devotions, pious and impassioned, giving her whole heart without hesitation, searching for meaning at the altar of life. Her hand snakes back, onto his neck; it tangles into the curls of his name, clutching, possessive, suddenly alight.
So much emotion, so much energy, so much displaced fear and pent up fire- it has to be let out somehow. So she offers it to him.
The kiss deepens, hungry and hunting, her hands tightening their grip on the Sword. Tongue plunders eagerly into his mouth; she presses her body against him, devouring, a fire meant to consume him whole. If he reciprocates she will take him wholly, wrap her arms around his shoulders, toes curled to give her height, head thrown back as she steals his lips. She wants to be wanted, she wants to show him how much she wants.
She wants to drown her darkness in fire, to leave behind the sorrows of the morning in favor of the passions of the afternoon.
So much emotion, so much energy, so much displaced fear and pent up fire- it has to be let out somehow. So she offers it to him.
The kiss deepens, hungry and hunting, her hands tightening their grip on the Sword. Tongue plunders eagerly into his mouth; she presses her body against him, devouring, a fire meant to consume him whole. If he reciprocates she will take him wholly, wrap her arms around his shoulders, toes curled to give her height, head thrown back as she steals his lips. She wants to be wanted, she wants to show him how much she wants.
She wants to drown her darkness in fire, to leave behind the sorrows of the morning in favor of the passions of the afternoon.
you can't choose what stays
and what fades away
and what fades away
