[sunday reveries] c.s. lewis quote
"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable."
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NOTE: Claire is girl_ofsecrets, used with permission and great love.
He was fine before he met her. He was living, he was breathing, he was functioning the way a living body was meant to.
Then he started to need her, and everything fell apart.
Stupid fights, petty spats drove them apart and it drove him insane. It drove him into the wee, unlit hours of the morning where the air was as cold as his bed, when the night was still claiming ownership of time and space. Barechested and barefoot, he lost himself in katas and stretches that made his muscles burn and cleared his mind.
He hated her for being so stubborn and strong, loathed her for the way she made his blood sing and his heart feel lighter than he’d ever known it could be. He despised her for accepting him, for fighting as hard as he did and caring as fiercely as she knew how.
He hated her for having the power to cripple him with every breath, every word, every touch. He could have killed her for loving him, pure and flawed and perfectly.
He could have killed her for the fact that he loved her just as much.
Then she was there, in his personal space. He could feel her energy, warm and quiet until her hands found his bare shoulders, almost too hot against his icy skin. Lowered into a square horse stance, thighs parallel to the ground and back ramrod straight with his arms out at either side, he was short enough for her to wrap her arms around his shoulders and rest her chin atop his head.
He kept his focus without any trouble. She wasn’t a disturbance, her touch was fluid and natural, an extension of himself. She was a part of him.
His shoulders eased, melting into her arms. His back molded to the gentle press of her breasts and stomach, his head tilted into the crook of her neck. Drawing in his arms, he covered her hands with both of his, enfolding them against his chest.
They both whispered their apology at the same time…another stupid fight, another petty spat.
But in breaching the walls around his heart, Claire had replaced them. She was his only defense against a cold and cruel world now…without her, he was nothing.
He’d been just fine before they met…then he met her, and ‘he’ had turned into ‘they.’ Apart they were worthless, but together not even God could touch them.
Muse: Cain Callahan
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (OC)
Words: 404
====================
NOTE: Claire is girl_ofsecrets, used with permission and great love.
He was fine before he met her. He was living, he was breathing, he was functioning the way a living body was meant to.
Then he started to need her, and everything fell apart.
Stupid fights, petty spats drove them apart and it drove him insane. It drove him into the wee, unlit hours of the morning where the air was as cold as his bed, when the night was still claiming ownership of time and space. Barechested and barefoot, he lost himself in katas and stretches that made his muscles burn and cleared his mind.
He hated her for being so stubborn and strong, loathed her for the way she made his blood sing and his heart feel lighter than he’d ever known it could be. He despised her for accepting him, for fighting as hard as he did and caring as fiercely as she knew how.
He hated her for having the power to cripple him with every breath, every word, every touch. He could have killed her for loving him, pure and flawed and perfectly.
He could have killed her for the fact that he loved her just as much.
Then she was there, in his personal space. He could feel her energy, warm and quiet until her hands found his bare shoulders, almost too hot against his icy skin. Lowered into a square horse stance, thighs parallel to the ground and back ramrod straight with his arms out at either side, he was short enough for her to wrap her arms around his shoulders and rest her chin atop his head.
He kept his focus without any trouble. She wasn’t a disturbance, her touch was fluid and natural, an extension of himself. She was a part of him.
His shoulders eased, melting into her arms. His back molded to the gentle press of her breasts and stomach, his head tilted into the crook of her neck. Drawing in his arms, he covered her hands with both of his, enfolding them against his chest.
They both whispered their apology at the same time…another stupid fight, another petty spat.
But in breaching the walls around his heart, Claire had replaced them. She was his only defense against a cold and cruel world now…without her, he was nothing.
He’d been just fine before they met…then he met her, and ‘he’ had turned into ‘they.’ Apart they were worthless, but together not even God could touch them.
Muse: Cain Callahan
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (OC)
Words: 404