The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display
a morbid painting on display
The impact of Maeve's body against her own is like a ripple of sensation in an otherwise still, dark lake. It takes a prolonged moment before her arms remember they are supposed to come up to hold the woman in return. Everything feels like a series of recorded actions and reactions now. Apologies like water over her skin, incapable of penetrating any deeper. As her eyes close, inhaling Maeve's scent, she recalls Atlas' flashes of the woman's hand on his punctured neck and feels the first shiver of emotion. "Thank you," she whispers through numb lips. The effort of trying even in the face of failure is not beyond Hotaru.
Hotaru's skin is wind-chilled beneath Maeve's hands, as if the sun has not managed to find her here. Mismatched irises veiled and distant. Still she goes into the kiss willingly, her own hands limp where they cling to Maeve's waist. As they part, she opens her eyes to watch the merging of their hair, blonde and black as together it creates a meager wall that separates them from the world at large. "I am not so easy to hurt." And how she aches with the desire that Aurelia had faced her like a woman and not a coward, had tried to fell an actual opponent instead of an innocent soul. Lifting her hands like anchors that weigh her down, Hotaru covers Maeve's hands with her own and breathes slowly through her nose as her eyelids fall shut. "You must leave me, Maeve." An echoing ring to her voice like an alarm bell on a ship's mast as it threatens to capsize in a storm.
Hotaru's skin is wind-chilled beneath Maeve's hands, as if the sun has not managed to find her here. Mismatched irises veiled and distant. Still she goes into the kiss willingly, her own hands limp where they cling to Maeve's waist. As they part, she opens her eyes to watch the merging of their hair, blonde and black as together it creates a meager wall that separates them from the world at large. "I am not so easy to hurt." And how she aches with the desire that Aurelia had faced her like a woman and not a coward, had tried to fell an actual opponent instead of an innocent soul. Lifting her hands like anchors that weigh her down, Hotaru covers Maeve's hands with her own and breathes slowly through her nose as her eyelids fall shut. "You must leave me, Maeve." An echoing ring to her voice like an alarm bell on a ship's mast as it threatens to capsize in a storm.
This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides
Buried at each others sides
