immortalpoet: (claret)
Vergilius ([personal profile] immortalpoet) wrote in [community profile] synflux 2024-04-10 03:49 am (UTC)

[Not like this, she says. People (or rather, a person) looked her over.]

[In the arms of a Color, seeking more.]

[She's so close to him now, to his chest, that he almost feels they could melt together for a second. He had written her off in the beginning, but after their drunken nights and further talked, in some ways they were too different and too similar. Moving forward, following the flow.]

[Is this his flow?]

[It reminds him of the voice. It felt like an embrace. Like she had known him intimately, every thought, every decision. He was so small compared to here.]

[He doesn't know how big he should feel, here. His own head moved, his chin brushing into her head.]


Are you uncomfortable?

[He remembers her flying away, then. The touch of her hands lingering on his cheeks.]

[Maybe this is too far, for both of them.]

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