@iraviri : i am not okay, not at all, and haven't been for some time.
a specter in the night, he visits her when the city sounds finally die down———————— when the streets finally surrender to the night. in those quiet hours, where even the wind doesn't dare to rasp against windows, & the only company they'd have is one another. the moon, hanging faithfully overhead, in that stillness is when he makes his presence known... as though he was lingering long enough to blur the line between dream & reality. she knew that he'd been off… he hadn't been himself for a very long time. ( she'd wonder if he'd ever be himself again. )
shall i lie with you for a while?
the question slips from his lips so easily, so quietly, that it dissolves into the night. it's spoken with the same reverence one might reserve for a prayer———————— it hangs between them, untouched by expectation, as though he would be content with her silence as he would with just simple answer. it's just the two of them, & the night sky that stretched endlessly above.
rena quietly shifts towards her side of the bed, patting the space besides her so he can settle in. with practiced care, she can feel him lower himself besides her, close enough to feel his radiating warmth. ( it's unmistakable, he was tired, almost achingly so. ) they'd simply lay there, side by side, gazing towards the silver light that catches their eyes. the silence between them is weighed by the absence of one another, there isn't anywhere she'd rather be.
shyly, her fingers brush against the back of his hand, before slipping into his palm———————— she shifts closer, the space he'd so carefully left disappears as she nestles against him, head resting against his shoulder. there's comfort in it, knowing that they've reached a point where words are no longer necessary. the city, remaining at peace while they were besides one another, were blissfully unaware of their intimacy.
i feel completely safe in your hands.
the confession comes quietly, hardly any louder than their breathing. it isn't spoken harshly… just, as a matter of fact. he's never been the affectionate type, never the type to reach out to her first. the silence that follows is warm, his hand remaining wrapped around hers, steady and unwavering. his presence alone is answer enough.
