roselightfairy

Moving from a 3,000-year established relationship to two BABIES figuring each other out BECAUSE I AM IN WAY TOO DEEP AND I CAN DO IT IF I WANT TO.

(I'm sorry for spamming you with these.)

But still, Siril says nothing.

She reaches out, circlet in hands, to settle it back onto Laerwen’s head. The balance is imperfect without the braids woven in; it tilts, unsteady, but neither of them pays it any mind. Laerwen finds herself unable to feel anything but the brush of Siril’s hands against her hair, a tingle that travels from her scalp down her back. Her knees shake beneath her as one of Siril’s hands moves to rest beneath her chin.

It takes all Laerwen’s effort to keep her head steady; she feels as though she will melt into nothing but a rapid-beating heart, but her eyes flick up unbidden to meet Siril’s own: dark, moon-gleaming. The hand under Laerwen’s chin tilts her head up to follow her gaze, and Siril bends still further, a willow-bough drawn to the earth, and kisses Laerwen on the mouth.

Oh.

Laerwen trembles. The kiss is light, just the slightest brush of lips, but it sweeps through her like the stiff wind of late autumn, and she is a leaf barely clinging to a branch. She did not know – but oh.

Thank you sorry all that jazz!