ᴏɴᴇ ᴇʏᴇ ʙʀɪ

. He has very little to say in a positive regard to the end of the world. But he has to admit that this view is fantastic. 

. Once upon a time, Brian would have traded all these stars for the twinkling lights and polluted fog of the big city. He’d have been pleased as punch never to see a star again so long as he could glut himself on the sodium lamps, the neon, the endless ruby trail of rush hour. 

. Funny now to think of how life had changed. How beautiful the night sky is, and the woman beneath him. Right now he doesn’t think he’d ever want to go back. 

. The milky way throws its hazy light down on their naked skins as they explore each other in the pasture outside camp. He finds Elena startling in the moonlight, the way he discovers quicksilver on her collarbones, on her ribs. His hand digs beneath her and draws her hips against his, a slow roll. 

. He leans on his elbow, sunk deep into the plush grass beside her head. His thrusts are languid, almost lazy. There’s no reason to rush this. He is himself now, calm, no voices living in him but the subtle pant of her breathing. 

. Brian pushes her hair off her face. The barest hint of a smile touches his lips.