The warmth and the light had returned, seeping through the cracks and dispelling the chasm of the void that had become a resting place for a confounding fusion of both seconds and ions. A place that was infinite yet went nowhere at all. A devouring damnation.
What a relief.
To finally find hints of an escape.
He could hear the song, soft and sweet, a beacon to guide the way.
So, he followed it.
Zero opened his eyes, crimson greeted by familiar violet lying next to him.
Ivy smiled, her fingers grazing along his face as her waiting had come to an end. “Good mor…”
His lips instantly captured hers, silencing the girl as those dancing fingers slipped through his hair and brought him closer, taking from him as he took from her. An arm wrapped around her waist while a hand cupped her cheek, the coolness of her skin against the heat of his own.
They were different, but the same.
Separate, but one.
They were everything.
And everything existed in this moment.
The past.
The present.
The future.
An inkling of understanding of all unknown.
Hidden.
Being revealed.
Like rays of day’s first light slipping through the dark.
Beginning to make it all more clear.
The boy pulled away before burrowing his face into the girl’s chest, entwining himself around her, holding on tight as he felt the beatings of her heart against is forehead. She smiled and sighed as her hands pulled his face up to look at her. They saw each other’s tears, the same as their own, a shared concern and relief unspoken. She pulled him back against herself, protecting and comforting him the way he had done for her so many times before. She sang softly, the song meant only for him.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
A calling.
A beckoning.
A path for him to follow.
No matter how far.
To lead him to her.
For always.
He would pull himself back up, their faces even. He would watch her, observe her every movement. Touch every speck of skin on her face, every strand of hair on her head, his lips trailing after his fingers.
And she would do the same.
Their lips would come together.
A greeting.
A reverence.
They would pull apart.
A farewell.
A sacrifice.
They would whisper.
Their wants and needs and hopes and dreams. Their fears and joys and worries and woes. All the things they could manage to verbalize.
They would gaze into each other’s eyes.
And they would speak without words.
The fire.
The light.
The warmth.
A mingling connection binding them closer with every passing moment.
He would trace along her wings, following the intricate designs and edges with care.
She would search where his once were, prodding against untarnished skin and finding no evidence that they had ever been.
They would notice as the light fell away and slipped into darkness, a departure to the day and welcoming of the night.
They would pull against each other, close their eyes, shallow their breath.
They would be silent while they listened to the rustling and whispers of their companions as they settled for sleep.
They would wait until all was still.
All quiet.
And they would escape.
Under the sliver of the moon with only just enough light…
They would dance to the song of the trees and soil, the flowers and grass, the stars and air.
The sun and the moon.
Their hands would reach, fingers just touch, gazes set on one another.
They would come together, they’d push apart.
Their bodies would spin and twist and step and sway.
A hand slipping across a hip.
Fingers burying into the skin of the back of the neck.
Lips becoming one.
Flowing like phantoms through the shadows.
Like leaves in the breeze.
They were a tribute to the night.
They were a praise to the day.
A ritual to the land and sky and sea.
A dream in reality.
They were life.
One needed the other.
The other needed the one.
Without the other half.
They could never be whole.
They could never be.
They would sneak back in.
Lay in each other’s arms.
Their eyes and lips would silently meet.
“I love you.”
They both would say.