[SE] sky full of song

Amalia I took the stars from my eyes, I made a map He takes her hand, and her grin is vivacious, crinkling and softening each line of her face, dancing like sunbeams in her black eyes. The other wraps around his, too, enveloping him in her tan fingers, the warmth of him a fire on her palms. With a mighty tug (as though she could lift him, as though he were not the one who has lifted her, raised her out of her despair, her literal and figurative buoy in the storm) she heaves him up, enjoying the pull of his weight against her, the way he balances her wraithlike frame. For a moment she forgets to relax her fingers, lets herself linger in his eyes too long. They are close again, in that strangely intimate-but-not way, in reach of each other, close enough she hopes fears she might fall into him, collapse into the easy comfort of his presence, envelop herself in his vibrancy, his life. He smells like flowers and damp stone, sounds like thunder on a warm night, laughs like a lighthouse in the dark. She wants to feel this way always, and yet she is terrified, exhilarated, her heartbeat riotous and her body tense, her cheeks stained red with coy mirth. Then the moment passes and her hands come undone, allowing him an avenue of retreat, turning to face the milling crowd. Thoughtfully she reaches to tame her hair, fiddling and fastening it with ribbon and comb until it is in some semblance of order, a waterfall of gold cascading down her shoulders, running in tangled curls upon her back. "There," she declares with a sudden certainty, pointing to her acquired target, a man who seems more interested in drinking and watching than joining in the frivolity. Turning to Deimos with glittering eyes, the mischievous baker grins. "Now watch, and keep time. I have to last ten seconds. Don't give me away." And then like a wisp on the wind she is gone, vanished into the throng that surrounds them, blending and bleeding into the crowd. It is less than a minute before she reappears: fluttering like a wayward leaf, the girl in green finds her place behind the festival goer and stands on her toes to flash Deimos a grin, one brow rising in a silent you ready? as she finds her place far from the stranger's line of sight. And then the girl begins to dance, her movements carefree and uncoordinated, flashing foolish faces at her companion as she waves her arms and sways her hips and attempts to escape undetected while making as great a scene as she dares. And I knew that somehow I could find my way back