Disclaimer: I don't own anything here. If I did, I wouldn't be here.
He gives his hearts away too easily.
Running, laughing, joking, talking. Chattering and nattering away incessantly until even his respiratory bypass system is worn out. She always knew his gob would kill him in the end.
He treads through emotions like a fish in water, and that which was once unbearable and forbidden is now the air he breathes, the words he speaks, the glances he gives, the flutter of his eyelashes, the beats of his hearts.
She gives her heart too readily.
Running, laughing, joking, talking. But maybe not necessarily in that order. He leads, and she follows along, eyes shimmering. Still, too trusting, always too trusting.
Her eyes are like a newborn, exploring the depths of space, and time, and his own, soft, gentle, forgiving, compassionate, hastily allowing a string of syllables to express her soul and life to the fullest.
(She thinks his nattering might be contagious.)
Time never moved properly in their make believe world. Backwards, forwards, up, down, side to side, with Allon-sy and Molto Bene and Fantastic and more and more and more.
Sometimes she thinks she may be flying through everything that has ever mattered.
(But maybe she was just falling, unable to stop, uncontrollable.)
It's alright, though, because he'll catch her when she lands.
(How can he, though, when he's falling, too, spiraling alongside her?)
It comes out in a breath, at last, in a small pocket of the universe in a tiny glimmer of time, murmurs and sounds linking together and forming a delicate chain of I love you. There is no sudden intake of breath, no regret, no pause between the words and the smiles.
She pauses briefly after, pondering that the words are not difficult to release from her mind, but relieving, as if letting go of a single, grand secret that one has cherished most of her life. Reflecting, she thinks that this is rather like flying, and that the most difficult thing is getting up off the ground.
He smiles slowly into her skin, murmuring his assent and reciprocation, and suddenly, the stars in her eyes refuse to fade.
If she has just taken a leap off the earth, she has pulled him along with her.