Tethered (Echo/Perrin) PG
Title Tethered
Author obiwahn
Rating PG
Word Count 233
Characters/Pairing Echo/Perrin
A/N: Just a short moody piece I wrote quickly this morning. Almost like a poem, really. LJ cut text from Percy Byssh Shelley :)
She feels something new.
Is this what it's like to be finished?
A bolt of desire runs through her as his skin touches hers.
The pain of the knife against her neck only heightens it.
She is vulnerable. She is at his mercy. And she trusts him.
A hand grasps her arm, squeezing tightly-tethering her to the here and now.
She exists.
When she turns and looks into his blue eyes she knows that she has found an ally.
She knows that she is capable of great things if she can feel this close to someone she just met.
She takes the chip from his hands and lays it on the sink, next to his.
They are free now-but only as free as they will allow themselves to be.
She hopes that he won’t leave.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes lowering-suddenly aware of the fact that she is in a state of undress.
“I didn’t mean to cut so deeply.”
She does not respond-merely stands on her toes and places her hands on the sides of his sad face.
This is what it’s like to feel connected, without programming. It is different, she decides.
It is scary, and it is beautiful.
The feel of his lips against hers feels like something she’s waited for, but he’s not her shining prince.
He is not her savior.
She is his.
Author obiwahn
Rating PG
Word Count 233
Characters/Pairing Echo/Perrin
A/N: Just a short moody piece I wrote quickly this morning. Almost like a poem, really. LJ cut text from Percy Byssh Shelley :)
She feels something new.
Is this what it's like to be finished?
A bolt of desire runs through her as his skin touches hers.
The pain of the knife against her neck only heightens it.
She is vulnerable. She is at his mercy. And she trusts him.
A hand grasps her arm, squeezing tightly-tethering her to the here and now.
She exists.
When she turns and looks into his blue eyes she knows that she has found an ally.
She knows that she is capable of great things if she can feel this close to someone she just met.
She takes the chip from his hands and lays it on the sink, next to his.
They are free now-but only as free as they will allow themselves to be.
She hopes that he won’t leave.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes lowering-suddenly aware of the fact that she is in a state of undress.
“I didn’t mean to cut so deeply.”
She does not respond-merely stands on her toes and places her hands on the sides of his sad face.
This is what it’s like to feel connected, without programming. It is different, she decides.
It is scary, and it is beautiful.
The feel of his lips against hers feels like something she’s waited for, but he’s not her shining prince.
He is not her savior.
She is his.