(nancytribe)
'Let's get out of here. Weren't you the one complaining about how much time I'm spending here?' I held out my hand to Ethan, who didn't need my help, of course. That wasn't the point. Making the offer was. Ethan took my proffered hand, and his flesh slid next to mine; his fingers curled in a graceful arc around the back of my hand, but never tightened around it.
When I touched Ethan we touched, some part of myself that was sleeping awakened again in a rush. Sometimes, I felt as if I lived my life in grainy black and white before Ethan, but I never knew what I was missing. I couldn't know, because I never lived in rich and vibrant colour, where everything is more vivid and sharply defined. I never knew such a world existed.
As difficult as Ethan is, at times, my life is so much more than it ever was with him in it. I could never contemplate living without him, even if it was possible. Not only in the sense that if one of us dies, the other probably will -- I can barely stand to spend the day without him near me. I don't think either of us anticipated such a great need to remain in proximity to one another as a side-effect of the bond we forged in blood and magic, but since the hours I'm at work are the longest we're ever apart, does it really matter?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A few hours later, Ethan and I were lying in bed together, relaxing. There was a pot of tea, and a plate of the poncy little sandwiches Ethan is so fond of making partially eaten on a wheeled cart beside us. I like seeing Ethan that way, when he looks at peace with himself, and the rest of the world around him. He looks even more beautiful then, with no tension tightening his features. I enjoy touching him, too, even when neither of us has any intention of making love for a while. Just feeling Ethan next to me, running my hands over his bare skin, makes me feel more tranquil, peaceful.
'When all the details are ironed out, we really ought to make it legal, don't you think?' Ethan asked, apropos of nothing.
So much for peace and tranquility.
When I touched Ethan we touched, some part of myself that was sleeping awakened again in a rush. Sometimes, I felt as if I lived my life in grainy black and white before Ethan, but I never knew what I was missing. I couldn't know, because I never lived in rich and vibrant colour, where everything is more vivid and sharply defined. I never knew such a world existed.
As difficult as Ethan is, at times, my life is so much more than it ever was with him in it. I could never contemplate living without him, even if it was possible. Not only in the sense that if one of us dies, the other probably will -- I can barely stand to spend the day without him near me. I don't think either of us anticipated such a great need to remain in proximity to one another as a side-effect of the bond we forged in blood and magic, but since the hours I'm at work are the longest we're ever apart, does it really matter?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A few hours later, Ethan and I were lying in bed together, relaxing. There was a pot of tea, and a plate of the poncy little sandwiches Ethan is so fond of making partially eaten on a wheeled cart beside us. I like seeing Ethan that way, when he looks at peace with himself, and the rest of the world around him. He looks even more beautiful then, with no tension tightening his features. I enjoy touching him, too, even when neither of us has any intention of making love for a while. Just feeling Ethan next to me, running my hands over his bare skin, makes me feel more tranquil, peaceful.
'When all the details are ironed out, we really ought to make it legal, don't you think?' Ethan asked, apropos of nothing.
So much for peace and tranquility.