(no subject)
{Lust}
If it is possible to be bored to death, then I'm sure I'm tiptoeing along the precipice. Fee is having one of her rare moments when she's actually listening to Cecily but the chatter of her handmade blue silk organza gown from Paris is enough to make my head wobble and spin.
I excuse myself, I need some fresh air, and give Felicity a nod when she looks up at me. I've not broken our promise; I'll only go to the Realms with her and Ann. I know better.
She returns my nod with one of her own before she prompts Martha about her own coming out dress. The chatter resumes immediately.
My only happiness from this is that Ann is away and won't be cruelly mocked and needled by Cecily and her lack of tact and common courtesy. It seems the grace portion of the Spence motto only applies to the aesthetics where she's concerned.
The sunlight when I escape the drear of Spence is nearly blinding and it's all I can do not the release all my magic into the world and make England as lovely as the Realms. It shudders in me and I have to fist my hands to keep from brushing my fingers across the roses and watch them bloom to life before my eyes.
I find myself walking towards the boathouse and I curse myself, but my legs don't stray from their course. Perhaps they're listening to my heart instead of my mind. In either case, they're annoying. I don't wish to see Kartik today, I can't look at him without blushing and I know I won't be able to step back from the magic when he's there.
He's a weakness I'm terribly keen on exploring. I'm an idiot by half.
My shoulders slump against the doorway when I find he's not there. Mrs Nightwing would be horrified by my lack of a perfectly straight back, but I can't help feeling disappointed that he's not there. Perhaps I've expected too much.
"Hello Miss Doyle."
Perhaps I've not expected enough.
Hair flies loose from my knot when I turn and I have to close my eyes when he reaches up, without permission might I add, to brush it behind my ear. I want to scold him for being presumptuous, but I'm the one who used magic to...
"Kartik, why are you still here?"
He looks at me like I've wounded him and I feel sorry for my rush of a question, but I want to know. I need to know. He always tells me he's leaving and yet there he stands, true as rain on the countryside whenever I've need of him.
The wounded look doesn't fade and he turns to leave. "I thought..."
I reach for his arm before he can leave and he jerks at the sudden contact though I can't blame him. "You thought?" I prompt, pressing my fingers against his thin shirt. I can feel how warm his skin is through the fabric and my heart beats fasts and I can feel the magic surge to my fingertips but I push it back.
I'll not be with him unless it's by his own free will.
He's turned away though, the stone cold Rakshana I remember him to be, not the Kartik who fled with me. I've hurt him.
"Kartik," I whisper, stepping closer and using my forefinger to turn his face to mine as Father used to do when I was a child throwing a tantrum. "Please don't leave me."
His eyes soften a bit and it looks like he's fighting a smile, but I'm never sure with him. Quick as you please, he leans forward and kisses me. The surprise and fluidity of it make my knees wobble and his hand finds the small of my back, supporting me lightly.
The tip of his tongue traces my lips and as I've just parted them he steps back and I feel like something's missing and I've gone cold suddenly. Don't stop, I want to say. Come back, please. The words will not form on my tongue and I'm left standing in a daze when he leaves and lopes off towards the Gypsy camp, I can hear Mother Elena calling for Caroline.
When I step back into Spence it's like the sun is following me because nothing at all can ruin the rest of this day. Even my French seems to improve. Mademoiselle LeFarge barely grimaces.
Kartik kissed me.
If it is possible to be bored to death, then I'm sure I'm tiptoeing along the precipice. Fee is having one of her rare moments when she's actually listening to Cecily but the chatter of her handmade blue silk organza gown from Paris is enough to make my head wobble and spin.
I excuse myself, I need some fresh air, and give Felicity a nod when she looks up at me. I've not broken our promise; I'll only go to the Realms with her and Ann. I know better.
She returns my nod with one of her own before she prompts Martha about her own coming out dress. The chatter resumes immediately.
My only happiness from this is that Ann is away and won't be cruelly mocked and needled by Cecily and her lack of tact and common courtesy. It seems the grace portion of the Spence motto only applies to the aesthetics where she's concerned.
The sunlight when I escape the drear of Spence is nearly blinding and it's all I can do not the release all my magic into the world and make England as lovely as the Realms. It shudders in me and I have to fist my hands to keep from brushing my fingers across the roses and watch them bloom to life before my eyes.
I find myself walking towards the boathouse and I curse myself, but my legs don't stray from their course. Perhaps they're listening to my heart instead of my mind. In either case, they're annoying. I don't wish to see Kartik today, I can't look at him without blushing and I know I won't be able to step back from the magic when he's there.
He's a weakness I'm terribly keen on exploring. I'm an idiot by half.
My shoulders slump against the doorway when I find he's not there. Mrs Nightwing would be horrified by my lack of a perfectly straight back, but I can't help feeling disappointed that he's not there. Perhaps I've expected too much.
"Hello Miss Doyle."
Perhaps I've not expected enough.
Hair flies loose from my knot when I turn and I have to close my eyes when he reaches up, without permission might I add, to brush it behind my ear. I want to scold him for being presumptuous, but I'm the one who used magic to...
"Kartik, why are you still here?"
He looks at me like I've wounded him and I feel sorry for my rush of a question, but I want to know. I need to know. He always tells me he's leaving and yet there he stands, true as rain on the countryside whenever I've need of him.
The wounded look doesn't fade and he turns to leave. "I thought..."
I reach for his arm before he can leave and he jerks at the sudden contact though I can't blame him. "You thought?" I prompt, pressing my fingers against his thin shirt. I can feel how warm his skin is through the fabric and my heart beats fasts and I can feel the magic surge to my fingertips but I push it back.
I'll not be with him unless it's by his own free will.
He's turned away though, the stone cold Rakshana I remember him to be, not the Kartik who fled with me. I've hurt him.
"Kartik," I whisper, stepping closer and using my forefinger to turn his face to mine as Father used to do when I was a child throwing a tantrum. "Please don't leave me."
His eyes soften a bit and it looks like he's fighting a smile, but I'm never sure with him. Quick as you please, he leans forward and kisses me. The surprise and fluidity of it make my knees wobble and his hand finds the small of my back, supporting me lightly.
The tip of his tongue traces my lips and as I've just parted them he steps back and I feel like something's missing and I've gone cold suddenly. Don't stop, I want to say. Come back, please. The words will not form on my tongue and I'm left standing in a daze when he leaves and lopes off towards the Gypsy camp, I can hear Mother Elena calling for Caroline.
When I step back into Spence it's like the sun is following me because nothing at all can ruin the rest of this day. Even my French seems to improve. Mademoiselle LeFarge barely grimaces.
Kartik kissed me.