[ Her eyes remain open for as long as they can to meet his gaze before they inevitably slide closed, memorizing the way that his lips meet her skin like she might never feel them again. Absently she scolds herself; she has to stop thinking so fatally. It's an old relic from the war, one that had been a necessity, a survival mechanism, something to pull out in times of desperation. Something to fight for, something to run towards. How does she undo that way of thinking if she doesn’t start trying now? ]
It better not.
[ Her attempt at levity may or may not land - especially with it being as water logged as it is. Perhaps if this hadn't been near relationship ending she might have put more efforts into the dramatics. But she can't because she silently vows it too: this amount of devastation to one another's hearts wouldn't ever come to pass again.
The absence of his lips on hers (where they belong, where they would always have a home in this timeline and the next) leaves a palpable absence of warmth. But she quietly thinks to herself, she'll accept the forehead kiss and the kisses that follow. The water laps at their skin as she adjusts herself on his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist, dispelling that much more space between them.
His kisses leave her trembling in their wake. Turning her head slightly she presses a tender kiss of her own to his temple, hands carding gently through the hair at the nape of his neck. Regret reaches across her voice. ]
I let my jealousy and doubt get the best of me when I should have listened to you. I should never have doubted you.
[ She pulls away just enough again, pausing his kisses for just a moment to look at him. To look at the face that she adored. That she loved. The words catch in her teeth but the look she gives him runs over with the feeling. Her hand comes to settle over his heart. ]
I know there are so many things I can’t do, [ Not like Sylvain, not even like Claude himself. ] but I’ll do whatever I can do to support you. I’m with you all the way — here or in any timeline.
no subject
It better not.
[ Her attempt at levity may or may not land - especially with it being as water logged as it is. Perhaps if this hadn't been near relationship ending she might have put more efforts into the dramatics. But she can't because she silently vows it too: this amount of devastation to one another's hearts wouldn't ever come to pass again.
The absence of his lips on hers (where they belong, where they would always have a home in this timeline and the next) leaves a palpable absence of warmth. But she quietly thinks to herself, she'll accept the forehead kiss and the kisses that follow. The water laps at their skin as she adjusts herself on his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist, dispelling that much more space between them.
His kisses leave her trembling in their wake. Turning her head slightly she presses a tender kiss of her own to his temple, hands carding gently through the hair at the nape of his neck. Regret reaches across her voice. ]
I let my jealousy and doubt get the best of me when I should have listened to you. I should never have doubted you.
[ She pulls away just enough again, pausing his kisses for just a moment to look at him. To look at the face that she adored. That she loved. The words catch in her teeth but the look she gives him runs over with the feeling. Her hand comes to settle over his heart. ]
I know there are so many things I can’t do, [ Not like Sylvain, not even like Claude himself. ] but I’ll do whatever I can do to support you. I’m with you all the way — here or in any timeline.