There was a pause, a tiny gasp as his breath caught, and she could only imagine his heart was beating as quickly as hers now; she squeezed his shin, beneath her left hand, and leaned closer to nuzzle against his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne. He exhaled, all the contentment in the world, and slowly, tentatively, leaned the unmasked side of his face against the crown of her head, braced to see if she would pull away. Christine slipped her right arm around his waist, and the walls of his nervousness seemed to melt, his posture softening, the rigid tension of his muscles relaxing, the weight of the strong arm around her back suddenly present, steady and wonderful. She let out a sigh of pleasure, of peace.
"…the death of me," he murmured tenderly, and she couldn't help but smile. (x)
🏝️
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convey how much I love the fic Volée by @veroniqueclaire , as I am not as articulate as the other fic commenters (which is also why I don’t really comment 😓). Like the summary provided by our lovely author, it truly is the quiet moments where the most magnificent things happen between our two beloved characters.
Personally, my favorite scene has always been the beach scene, a particularly calm occasion after what happened in the previous chapter… 😬 It was a rare moment where both Erik and Christine’s guards are down, where the two of them could actually speak their minds without much argument. In addition, VeroniqueClaire has such great talent when it comes to painting a full picture of what she hopes to project to the readers. The image in my mind was so tender that I simply had to capture it. I hope I do it justice!
