#screaaaaming.

❛ ──── BE MINE, VALENTINE. ❤  : @vendavals

she never asked, but he said he would wait. four seasons is all she suspected she'd need. (enough time for her to recover who she was and preserve her heart.) before she'd gone, she asked for him to look for her each season, to keep an eye out for the signs. a sea shell full of pink pearls – all the happy tears when she thought of him. and like clockwork at a certain time of a given month, she'd watch for him. wait for him as he was waiting on her.

she wishes she could communicate with him as she sits beside him on the edge of the pier, just the ends of her tale grazing the water's surface. she wears a borrowed shirt – having warned him before that the tales of mermaids who wore fish shells had all been mere myth. the fabric feels familiar, feels like a piece of him she gets to hold onto for these short-lived moments she can spend with him before she must return.

elorah had waited until the breeze had dried her hair before she leaned over, dropping the back of her head against his shoulder as she watched the waves lap over one another as the sunset neared its end. each time they met like this, she waited for him to break the silence. timid and soft-spoken, only offering a few sentences here and there. she always watched him in silence, never giving a sign of comprehension, but she understood each word. (she controlled her emotions when things took a sad turn – she didn't want to make it worse by joining in those sorrows. of course she missed him so dearly, but what good would it do to fuel that fire when she can't even speak what's in her heart?)  even now she wonders if he knows she understands. surely, he must? or else why would he be so bold as to admit such a secret?