Guns and Horses

You're so quiet,

But it doesn't faze me.

The overhanging silence, her silence - probably considered menacing by some - did not faze Tom Branson as he gazed silently towards the silhouette of her petite frame, outlined by the moonlight that was juxtaposed against the oppressive blackness of dusk. Sybil's delicate figure gently shivered as the chill of the cold night forced itself upon her, seeping colour into her pallid cheeks.

You're on time,

You move so fast makes me feel lazy.

With a grace of ethereal beauty, Sybil swept herself onto one of the low-lying work benches situated near the opening of the garage. The movement, speedy and elegant, vaguely caught Tom's eye, his head following the developments with keen attendance, a slight smile creeping it's way upon his features. In the darkness, pierced only by one single lamplight, his smile was suppressed and not visible to Sybil; however, he noticed her slightly shift, only slightly, when he began to move in the direction of the bench. As he perched himself upon the worktop, his hands groping the edge in an attempt to push himself further back, his left hand gently brushed her right one. She didn't flinch or pull away – neither did he.

Let's join forces,

We've got our guns and horses.

Tom felt her fingers, elegantly dancing between his, settle, their hands held in an intimate clasp. His head turned to face her in the darkness and he stared at her adoringly, her head bowed in solemn affection as she contemplated their entwined hands. He rested his chin gently upon his firm shoulder as he raised his hand a little; fingers gallivanting delicately between hers, fingers tips lingering against hers momentarily. Her tear-stained face rose and gradually turned in his direction, her modest brown eyes searching into his naively, pulling at his heartstrings unconsciously.

I know you've been burned,

But every fire is a lesson learned.

Sybil's expression of artlessness and guilelessness, of hurt and fatigue, led to his shuffling marginally closer, taking a firmer grip of her hand whilst doing so. Unexpectedly, she drew his arm beneath hers, pulling him yet closer, her hand resting on his daintily heaving chest. At this the rate of his breathing rapidly increased, his mind darting, aware that if anybody saw them, tucked away so intimately in this dark corner at this time in the night, he would surely be left jobless and Sybil-less. However, as her nimble fingers traced a line to the fine hairs of his lower neck, and an electric pulse shivered through him as she indicated to him to turn his head to hers, nothing else mattered.

You're so worth it,

You are.

As their felicitous hearts beat in hurried unison under the transitional blue sky, Sybil extended her back and neck, raising her head so as to meet his lips, lightly brushing them against her own with ignored impropriety. Though taken aback, both mind and heart racing, Tom moved his left hand to her upper arm fluently, taking care so as not to break their bond. He banished the risk from his mind, indulging himself in the moment, a rush of blood and adrenaline intensifying the intimacy of the situation. Placing one hand of the surface of the bench, he slid off in order to be parallel to her. Lying both hands palm down against the taciturn brick of the wall behind her, he pressed his upper body against her, pinning her gently but determinedly.

But I wish I could feel it all for you,

I wish I could be it all for you.

Slowly, she snaked a path with her hands, down his chest sides, hooking one of her thumbs in the hoop for his belt, her other hand placed on his chest, fingers protruding through the space left by the buttons on his shirt. Sybil's passion and fire surprised him – left him yearning for more; so inexperienced yet able to leave him breathless, her intense delicacy enticed him only more and yet, their kiss, it was… beautiful. The way in which her head weaved and her lips moved, leading him – it was… breathtakingly beautiful.

If I could erase the pain,

Then maybe you'd feel the same.

Hesitantly and reluctant, Tom pulled away gently and shifted himself back in a seated position upon the worktop, still holding Sybil, unwilling to let go. As he looked at her, a sheepish smile overspread his features and as he looked at her, he felt overcome with adoration of her beauty. Her tear-stained face alight with a blazing smile, he wiped away the last trickle of tears and wrapped her into his strong embrace, her weary head lay on his shoulder as she closed her pained, auburn eyes. The tears, the consequences of the loss of an unknown brother, the outbreak of war… they gradually dispersed, disappearing in the wake of her dreams of forever being in this position. She had never felt so safe, so dependent… so – whole. With these thoughts drifting absently through her fatigued mind, she fell into a light sleep, still wrapped within his warm embrace: still safe.

I'd do it all for you, I would,

I would, I would, I would.