AURELIA
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
maybe they never will be
He'll find some of those if he so seeks; marks and scars, that is. He'll also find goosebumps rising in his wake, in spite of their shared warmth, in spite of the fact that she feels anything but cold. His thumb rooted its way up to her chest and she parted the lips pressed against his skin, sucking in a deeper breath.
Releasing it, she let a giggle ripple against the place beneath his neck. "Mhmm, sure," she entertained his sentiment for a moment. Only for a moment. She lost herself into a deep nuzzle against his bronzed skin, unblemished by betrayal or hatred. What a relief that was.
She could feel the rise and fall of his breath, the beating of his tender heart. For that moment, she felt as though she could really see him. For all his hard work and simultaneous inexperience, she could understand him still. She didn't care if he could relate to the scars carved into her skin, she only cared that they didn't frighten him.
And what a waste it would be if no one recognized his complexity, the thought struck through her as she pressed her face into him. Even in these moments of passionate intimacy, her mind still managed to bring forth those deeper realizations. Only, now, they didn't tell her to panic and run. In her peripheral, she could see his expression, plastered across his handsome jaw.
Aurelia parted her mouth from him as he was suddenly shifting, twisting to pull a blanket around them. Her gaze regarded him again and she pressed back up so that their faces were level. Simultaneously, her own hand wound beneath his shirt. The material was soft against the back of her hand but his flesh was firm and steady as she pushed the garment aside. It draped over his upper chest, revealing him.
Her lips craved his skin again and she ducked down to plant them along the muscles that formed and bridged along his torso. Thoughtfully, thoughtlessly, a moment of raw, unbridled honesty; she murmured, "Maybe I'm the runner..." It was stated with such a bluntness that it must've been haunting her for a while, not just because their meeting and the words they'd shared had brought it up in her mind.
Releasing it, she let a giggle ripple against the place beneath his neck. "Mhmm, sure," she entertained his sentiment for a moment. Only for a moment. She lost herself into a deep nuzzle against his bronzed skin, unblemished by betrayal or hatred. What a relief that was.
She could feel the rise and fall of his breath, the beating of his tender heart. For that moment, she felt as though she could really see him. For all his hard work and simultaneous inexperience, she could understand him still. She didn't care if he could relate to the scars carved into her skin, she only cared that they didn't frighten him.
And what a waste it would be if no one recognized his complexity, the thought struck through her as she pressed her face into him. Even in these moments of passionate intimacy, her mind still managed to bring forth those deeper realizations. Only, now, they didn't tell her to panic and run. In her peripheral, she could see his expression, plastered across his handsome jaw.
Aurelia parted her mouth from him as he was suddenly shifting, twisting to pull a blanket around them. Her gaze regarded him again and she pressed back up so that their faces were level. Simultaneously, her own hand wound beneath his shirt. The material was soft against the back of her hand but his flesh was firm and steady as she pushed the garment aside. It draped over his upper chest, revealing him.
Her lips craved his skin again and she ducked down to plant them along the muscles that formed and bridged along his torso. Thoughtfully, thoughtlessly, a moment of raw, unbridled honesty; she murmured, "Maybe I'm the runner..." It was stated with such a bluntness that it must've been haunting her for a while, not just because their meeting and the words they'd shared had brought it up in her mind.
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
when you're ready to sleep
