The characters are owns by J.K. Rowling. I am just borrowing them for stories.
Of Dragons
Someone once said love isn't always about handholding.
Love.
It isn't the fairy tale all young girls grow up believing it is.
It isn't all about princes and horses and true love fighting dragons to save you. Sometimes there are dragons, and if you wait for the prince to save you, you'll be toasted maiden. Then, sometimes, the prince is the dragon.
What then?
Little girls grow up believing in happy endings. Older girls grow up
believing love will concur all. There are no happy endings and love
never concurs all. This is a harsh lesson that all little girls find
out sooner or later as they grow up. It's difficult, but one learns to
adapt around it.
I speak from experience. I know.
My experience is right now back in his room, getting ready for bed if
he isn't asleep already. I'm one of the unfortunate girls who didn't have to fight the dragon, but instead got the dragon disguised as the prince.
But I entered that cave anyway, made my bed of thorns and now must lie in it. My harsh lesson ended just over an hour ago.
I remember exactly how it went.
The same way my lessons with being with a dragon always go. If I close my eyes, I can still see everything. The look in his eyes when I approach, the way the moon highlights his hair in the tower. The clothing he wears...or lack of it at the moment. The room we're in alone: quiet, dark, musty.
Closing my eyes, I can bring all my senses back to that moment.
The sheer need and wanting in his eyes, his hand tangling in my hair. The feel of his skin against mine. The quiet whispers as he speaks, his breath hot against my ear. The exhilaration of feeling his skin against mine after all clothing is shed and it's just us.
The rush of pleasure when he takes me.
Feelings and emotions I cannot express in words, yet am helpless to hold back when we are together. Gasps, and moans; cries, and nails raking across skin. The perfect oneness as we lose ourselves completely to the moment.
And in that moment, there is no he or I. There's no dragons or fair
maidens. There isn't hatred or bigotry. No bating remarks that leave
wounds in places one cannot see. There is just us. One boy and one girl, together in the moment.
But as always, it is only a moment, and moments do not last forever, no
matter how hard one wishes.
Reality drifts down between us again and there are no words. Only one
more brief moment.
The feel of his lips on mine. And his breath in my ear as the same
word he speaks every time we are together leaves his lips.
"Mine."
I know there will be no happy ending. Dragons are always slain. They
do not live to grow old and die. Sooner or later, either by another
prince or the princess herself, they are always slain. And it is in our nature to slay them.
But until all the dragons are slain and the fairy tale ends, I shall
learn to live by the moment.
Of Dragons
Someone once said love isn't always about handholding.
Love.
It isn't the fairy tale all young girls grow up believing it is.
It isn't all about princes and horses and true love fighting dragons to save you. Sometimes there are dragons, and if you wait for the prince to save you, you'll be toasted maiden. Then, sometimes, the prince is the dragon.
What then?
Little girls grow up believing in happy endings. Older girls grow up
believing love will concur all. There are no happy endings and love
never concurs all. This is a harsh lesson that all little girls find
out sooner or later as they grow up. It's difficult, but one learns to
adapt around it.
I speak from experience. I know.
My experience is right now back in his room, getting ready for bed if
he isn't asleep already. I'm one of the unfortunate girls who didn't have to fight the dragon, but instead got the dragon disguised as the prince.
But I entered that cave anyway, made my bed of thorns and now must lie in it. My harsh lesson ended just over an hour ago.
I remember exactly how it went.
The same way my lessons with being with a dragon always go. If I close my eyes, I can still see everything. The look in his eyes when I approach, the way the moon highlights his hair in the tower. The clothing he wears...or lack of it at the moment. The room we're in alone: quiet, dark, musty.
Closing my eyes, I can bring all my senses back to that moment.
The sheer need and wanting in his eyes, his hand tangling in my hair. The feel of his skin against mine. The quiet whispers as he speaks, his breath hot against my ear. The exhilaration of feeling his skin against mine after all clothing is shed and it's just us.
The rush of pleasure when he takes me.
Feelings and emotions I cannot express in words, yet am helpless to hold back when we are together. Gasps, and moans; cries, and nails raking across skin. The perfect oneness as we lose ourselves completely to the moment.
And in that moment, there is no he or I. There's no dragons or fair
maidens. There isn't hatred or bigotry. No bating remarks that leave
wounds in places one cannot see. There is just us. One boy and one girl, together in the moment.
But as always, it is only a moment, and moments do not last forever, no
matter how hard one wishes.
Reality drifts down between us again and there are no words. Only one
more brief moment.
The feel of his lips on mine. And his breath in my ear as the same
word he speaks every time we are together leaves his lips.
"Mine."
I know there will be no happy ending. Dragons are always slain. They
do not live to grow old and die. Sooner or later, either by another
prince or the princess herself, they are always slain. And it is in our nature to slay them.
But until all the dragons are slain and the fairy tale ends, I shall
learn to live by the moment.