Like emerald kisses

[diva_myron]

Date: August 23, 2000
Time: Early evening
Place: Myron's house
Characters Involved: Myron Wagtail and Deirdre Burke
Rating: PG-13 at most

Early evening and what else could have one wanted from here? It was not nearly the twilight for everything to turn magical yet, moreover, it was even a bit too far from the sunset. Forty minutes, give or take.

Comments

[deirdre_ivy]

She had stepped inside the garden like stepping from a sepia photo into a gasp of wind and moving color all at once. A movie, where everything your false fingertips touched shivered you and excited that lost part of you that could still laugh and cry. Where her timid lips wanted to flash white teeth at the azure pathways of the sky and dare the blue to be so dark it would dizzy her.

But she had only arrived at a house. Just a visit between _________ (fill in the blank, fill in the blank, Deirdre). Nothing to grow anxious about. No jumpiness required. No sorrow.

When the movement in the sphere brought a presence to her attention, she awoke. She could see slivers of Myron through the vivid emerald leaves and violently red poppies, moving. He was fragmented as well, bits and pieces of a luminary soul shining through the greenery. It was too much, just as it had been in the journals, and her heart was ready to burst again with--what?

She had to tell him--what?

Deirdre did not yell when he ran towards her, did not open her eyes wider. There was only a moment that made her feel as if the entire world was pausing to take a breath too; her back touched the wood of the gate. His hands were assured (and open! the touch!) and her false fingertips disappeared in his palms. She was drawn back from the freeze time. A testament to the fact that all one needs to dance is a partner that knows how to lead, Deirdre turned in his hands without ever knowing the tune.

The pale eyes that looked up at him afterward were more bewildered than reproachful. She would have asked for an explanation, but, of course, she already knew. Myron could not break the moment if he tried. Her hair had fallen loose in the slow spin, and the clip that had held it back dangled ridiculously past her shoulder; she snatched it away and clung to her severity.