This conversation has been a long time coming and though she's always dreaded it, dreaded the feelings and memories it would exhume and his possible reaction to them, she finds that his response to it, his gentle understanding, that love in him that remains steadfast but pointedly not blind, has lifted some weight off of her shoulders. Her heart feels lighter.
Her breath shudders at the acknowledgments he lays out before her. There's no washing away all that's been but in so many ways he's a salve for her burns. His presence can pull her focus out from whatever dark pits she often finds herself wallowing in. In turn, she hopes she is a buoy, a life raft when he's fallen into his own. As much as she can be, at least.
She reaches for him and frames his face between her hands, fingers splayed, pinkies tucked beneath his jaw. Her gaze is still damp, wet lashes clumped together, but her lips twitch and curve upward at the edges, "And I love you, my sad, sweet vampire," her voice is thick with that love. She leans up to press her dry lips to his, chastely, and whispers as she pulls back, "Thank you."
He makes her want to be proud of herself, too, and not the bitter, spiteful kind of pride she's spent so long relishing. It's something sweeter. Brighter. One hand trails to find the beads in his hair to spin them carefully between her fingers as she continues to gaze up at him, "As long as we're together, I will do my best to make sure you don't drown in either sorrow or bloodlust, Johan, and I'd like to form a bond with you," she pauses and tilts her head at him, "if you're willing."
no subject
Her breath shudders at the acknowledgments he lays out before her. There's no washing away all that's been but in so many ways he's a salve for her burns. His presence can pull her focus out from whatever dark pits she often finds herself wallowing in. In turn, she hopes she is a buoy, a life raft when he's fallen into his own. As much as she can be, at least.
She reaches for him and frames his face between her hands, fingers splayed, pinkies tucked beneath his jaw. Her gaze is still damp, wet lashes clumped together, but her lips twitch and curve upward at the edges, "And I love you, my sad, sweet vampire," her voice is thick with that love. She leans up to press her dry lips to his, chastely, and whispers as she pulls back, "Thank you."
He makes her want to be proud of herself, too, and not the bitter, spiteful kind of pride she's spent so long relishing. It's something sweeter. Brighter. One hand trails to find the beads in his hair to spin them carefully between her fingers as she continues to gaze up at him, "As long as we're together, I will do my best to make sure you don't drown in either sorrow or bloodlust, Johan, and I'd like to form a bond with you," she pauses and tilts her head at him, "if you're willing."