(no subject)
Peanut Butter - Wood
Main entry
Timeframe : 1278
Ski runs a hand over the thick arm coiled around her, as she’s done at least a hundred times already. She can’t stop touching him, feeling him, breathing him in, trying to grant herself little offers of proof. “I still cannot believe you are truly real and not some ghost or figment of my imagination.”
“I still can’t believe you’re really here in my arms. I thought for sure you’d hate me.”
“Hate you?” She presses closer, resting her ear against his heart and curling her arms about his middle. “What I have prayed for all these years has come to me and I should be angry because it was not sooner?”
“I love you,” says Tristan, squeezing her again.
“I love you too.” He’s drawing back, sliding a hand under her chin, tipping her mouth up to kiss her. Ski stops him with a hand to his chest, and he frowns at her. “There are, however… complications.”
“Complications?”
“Yes.” She dips a finger beneath the neck of her blouse, hooks it beneath the gold chain that matches the one Tristan wears, and pulls it out
“Right.” Tristan swallows hard as he stares at the ring hung from her neck and the similar one on the finger she’s holding beside it. “Complications.”
Main entry
Timeframe : 1278
Ski runs a hand over the thick arm coiled around her, as she’s done at least a hundred times already. She can’t stop touching him, feeling him, breathing him in, trying to grant herself little offers of proof. “I still cannot believe you are truly real and not some ghost or figment of my imagination.”
“I still can’t believe you’re really here in my arms. I thought for sure you’d hate me.”
“Hate you?” She presses closer, resting her ear against his heart and curling her arms about his middle. “What I have prayed for all these years has come to me and I should be angry because it was not sooner?”
“I love you,” says Tristan, squeezing her again.
“I love you too.” He’s drawing back, sliding a hand under her chin, tipping her mouth up to kiss her. Ski stops him with a hand to his chest, and he frowns at her. “There are, however… complications.”
“Complications?”
“Yes.” She dips a finger beneath the neck of her blouse, hooks it beneath the gold chain that matches the one Tristan wears, and pulls it out
“Right.” Tristan swallows hard as he stares at the ring hung from her neck and the similar one on the finger she’s holding beside it. “Complications.”