poppycock: (#10740369)
ꀘ꒒ꋬ꒤ꇙ ꂵ꒐ꀘꋬꏂ꒒ꇙꄲꋊ ([personal profile] poppycock) wrote in [community profile] entrancelogs 2017-03-31 12:34 am (UTC)

[ every moment with her is one he has never wanted to be pulled from: that night especially. only in quiet moments he has not counted does he remember how she tasted, how she felt, and the look hanging in her eyes as they said goodbye. it's the reason he pulls away—not only to spare her the intimacy of moments she need not be privy to, but to spare himself and her the rawness of his longing. of the depth of it. the relief and exploration, the joy and finding. some things should be his and his alone, and he wants this to be: being with her, saying goodbye.

he feels that same decimation of disconnect, weighing down on his chest and choking him as he comes back, as he opens his eyes to the shadows of the room, the crackling of the fire, and of her in his arms. him in hers. uncertainty fills him; fear, lesser than before but no less potent. he knows the load he has given her and he knows the fright of its contents. he knows she needs time; he would pull away and give them both space if not for her death grip anchoring them together—he's thankful for it. selfishly, inordinately grateful for it, for it means he does not retreat and she does not recoil.

the silence is long. he leans back only slightly, enough to look down at her, his hand moving up her shoulder. she utters her soft oath and after a moment, he murmurs back,
] Are you all right? [ are you going to be all right? is what he means. ]

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