A/N: Thanks to Laura who was happy enough to indulge my prose poetry love.
Word Count: 473
coming out (whilst falling in love)
With each exhale, his dreams coat my skin. The sky is white sheets cocooning us, shielding the rest of the world from what we've done; shielding us from the world's glances, narrowed eyes sharpened to knife points. We have dreams that would steal the words from their mouths, leaving them gasping for air, desperate for bigoted rhetoric to fall back on, for hatred to mumble.
That is their safety net. Mine is his arms, wrapped around my naked body. There are scars on his skin, carved deep into his heart and sifting through the shadows in his eyes can be impossible when they're the shade of stormy seas. The past crashes in waves like his nightmares - dragging him under until he rises to the surface, suffocating, sucking greedily on air. He clings to life when so many fell - he cries, echoing those who can no longer.
Still, he holds me. As I learn to memorise signs for when the bad memories ready their attacks, I press my lips against his skin. I was told that love was the strongest force in the universe, and yet my kisses seem not to shield him. It's hit and miss but still, he breathes, and still, he dreams. I am safe with him, my hair buttercup yellow when he smiles, turquoise blue when he murmurs Edward.
Our bed is a fort in which we plan our coup. The rigid structures with which society has shackled us will be the first to fall; adoration is our battle cry. I grew up practising guerrilla warfare; metamorphing into adulthood at six years old to steal cookies, making out with girls at sixteen to hide under a safer label. If we are to be the catalyst, the eye of the storm and centre of a battlefield then I am ready for the war.
I will protect my soldier, just as he holds me up on nights when my soul turns monochrome. He has always been compassion, caring for the invisible wounds slurs sliced into my skin. Our first night was laced with tequila, spiked with lust and the thrill of possibilities. Now our nights are chamomile tea, sweetened with soft jazz and sweet familiarity. The one constant has been feeling whole. I have found a puzzle piece that fits in with my queer shape, sharp edges and unexpected undulations as my mood dips then soars.
Tonight I breathe in his dreams as his hands splay across my freckled skin, caressing my heartbeat. Tomorrow we will brace ourselves, arm ourselves, hand in hand with chapped lips ready to press commitment against each other, mouthing 'I love you' in public kisses. Neville smiles in his sleep, my hair buttercup yellow as I let myself drift. We are intrepid explorers, coming out from the shadows into the light, searching for a destination marked Hope.
A/N: Prompts and challenges:
- Love in Motion: Cross Gen - Neville/Teddy
- Liza's Loves: 13. 'Being cuddled under the covers.'
- Lyric Alley: 18. Maybe when I get older
- The Insane House Challenge: 543. Plot Point - Declaring your true love
- The 365 Prompts Challenge: 290. 'You Make Me Whole' by Steps
- Play More Cards!: 23. Concentration - Write about someone preparing for something important
- Forty Days: No using the word 'said'.
- Scavenger Hunt: 14. Break up a canon pairing.
- Serpent Day: 25. Cottonmouth - (word) mumble