A wash of feelings. A whole world bigger than an ocean. Bigger than her. At the edge of a kiss that's more than I promise could have ever tried to touch with just sound. That feels stripped, like lightning, to the core of herself in kissing Nathan, even as half of her still hummed with the stark necessity to leave, to leave as fast as possible. Even him. To take this chance more fleet that the quickest breeze.
The one he gave her. The one he found, even when she left it in her own later. He didn't. He's more than she knows how to deserve, or how to feel any less than everything she puts into this simple press of lips. Anything less and it wouldn't be enough (it's barely enough) anymore; anything more and she won't be able to still go do it (she has to go). A cold reality, with its own brand desperation, even when she pulls away, her lips still warm and her eyes on his face, as her steps wobble.
He's still standing there. Not quite frozen, eyes still closed, half in movement, and she has to turn away. She can't look at him. She can't watch him open his eyes. She can't do that and still do this. Not now.
Audrey turn on her heel and dashed forward, clipped and fast --
-- as her heart was thundering as her eyes suddenly shot open.
Blinking at the brightness of the morning light on the ceiling of her bedroom. Blue eyes wild for a second, before her hand came up and covered her mouth.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rosecarmine
(no subject)
Date: 2018-07-04 03:15 am (UTC)A wash of feelings. A whole world bigger than an ocean. Bigger than her. At the edge of a kiss that's more than I promise could have ever tried to touch with just sound. That feels stripped, like lightning, to the core of herself in kissing Nathan, even as half of her still hummed with the stark necessity to leave, to leave as fast as possible. Even him. To take this chance more fleet that the quickest breeze.
The one he gave her. The one he found, even when she left it in her own later. He didn't. He's more than she knows how to deserve, or how to feel any less than everything she puts into this simple press of lips. Anything less and it wouldn't be enough (it's barely enough) anymore; anything more and she won't be able to still go do it (she has to go). A cold reality, with its own brand desperation, even when she pulls away, her lips still warm and her eyes on his face, as her steps wobble.
He's still standing there. Not quite frozen, eyes still closed, half in movement, and she has to turn away.
She can't look at him. She can't watch him open his eyes. She can't do that and still do this. Not now.
Audrey turn on her heel and dashed forward, clipped and fast --
Blinking at the brightness of the morning light on the ceiling of her bedroom.
Blue eyes wild for a second, before her hand came up and covered her mouth.