tamer of flames

A blush on her cheeks mirrored his as she kissed him back, happy for the moment that she was able to. Pulling away, she let her eyes trail over his face, mapping out the familiar features, noting any new lines or wrinkles. “Where did you get off to this time?”

“Nowhere really,” he lied. He’d been following after Silvertongue again, but he didn’t want to admit that. He didn’t want her to think she wasn’t important to him, even though he was frantically searching for a way home. He lifted his hand and cradled her cheek, meeting her eyes after some hesitation. “Where have you been?”

“It’s okay,” she said, softly. They had played this game before and she never minded. It was the way he was. She leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek, right over the scars.

Some things never changed, and he was glad for it. A warm flush covered his cheeks, gazing up at her in silence, glad that she always accepted him no matter how much he came and went. He nodded, as if to accept what she said, and then turned his head to kiss her soft lips.

She knew how he felt about touch, remembered it from the first night she had met him and all the days after until they both had gotten past that. Ducking her head, she smiled and tightened her grip. “Hi.”

He wanted to kiss her like he used to, but as he always did when he reappeared in her life, he held back. Instead, he steeped in his guilt, before a smile cracked through. “Hi.”

#Inkheart #Inkspell #Inkdeath #CorneliaFunke #Fiction #Proverb #Fantasy

Dustfinger normally didn’t much like people touching him, but ... with her it was okay. It was always okay. In fact, he liked it, but he wasn’t about to admit it, nor would he let go.

Pine Marten, Scotland by Flickpicpete

squints at

“I would like that. I’ll just have to make sure I keep away from the water,” she said, with a soft sigh. There wasn’t another way to convey her thankfulness; it didn’t escape her that with him she was something of a contradiction. Once that would have bothered her but she liked the little part of the wolrd they had carved out for themselves. “If we leave now, we could see the sunset.” 

Tilting his head at her request, he let his inquisitive gaze move over her. “Will the water hurt you?” If so, he would keep her far, far away. Was she so like fire that it would put her out? He hoped not. “The sunset. Yes.” Although he was not one to share his sudden enthusiasm openly, it was clear that he wanted to go then and there by the way he took her hand.

[x] ”~ … A la claire fontaine.. M’en allant promener…                 J’ai trouvé l’eau si belle, que je m’y suis baigné..                  Il y a longtemps que je t’aime, jamais je ne t’oublierai... ~”    The young woman sings quietly, wandering around by herself near a wooded area. It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining, the birds chirping — it felt almost fairytale-esque.    That’s when she almost fell on her face, ruining her childhood song and turning it into a grunt of surprise as she stumbled to regain her balance, looking up only to find a stranger staring back at her from a few feet away.  Well. That was embarrassing.

“I liked your song,” he admitted in a tone that sounded as if he didn’t want to admit anything to her at all.

“Oh, I’ll bet! You can do all sorts of things with a split tree, ‘specially if it’s still alive after that!” Her glow turned rosy as it brightened. “And I saw all kinds of new things while you were gone, Dustfinger. I wouldn’t even know where to start—oh! But you could see one of ‘em yourself, if you’d like!”

“One of what?” Already he was interested. Anything she would have to show him interested him. Dustfinger so loved the creatures of the wood, they were more familiar to him than his own kind.

“Well, you’re here, ain’tcha?” she giggled. “So it’s a lucky guess! Didja see anything neat?”

“I saw a very old tree that was split in half by lightning. I think it might have made a lovely home for little monsters of the forest like yourself. What about you? Did you see anything new?”