There's really not much to say about this little story. I just thought I might actually write something a little bit happier than I normally do. Once again, I just wanted to try my hand at something a little different. I hope you enjoy! :)
This story is dedicated to Niphuria and her love of smut and happy endings! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. It's all for fun. :)
Voices could be heard floating through the cool night air. Several were gathered together in the garden, bathed in the gentle glow of the paper lanterns strung from tree branch to tree branch. Merry voices, they were, all huddled together away from the shadows that lurked just outside of the light. All but two.
Two shadows, barely visible, stumbled through the grass to the farthest edge of the oddly shaped yard, closet to the faraway hills, only guided by the dim light of the moon. Two oddly matched shadows, laughing as they walked, drunk by nothing but the intoxication of being so close and reveling in the mischief of it all.
"What's happened to all the stars?" the tiny shadow whispered. Her voice was soft and curious, laced with a touch of mirth. "They've all disappeared."
"Have they, my dear?" the bigger shadow answered.
And then they both broke into another fit of laughter falling down onto the cool grass. The tiny shadow rested her head on her arm, body turned sideways, as gloved hands tangled into her blonde hair. Above them, the stars twinkled and danced, sultry in the night sky, and that was really all that mattered.
And then the tiny shadow was on her back watching the stars, eyelids heavy with sleep. He was propped up on his elbow, one hand still left in her hair, and she couldn't help but gaze up at him, framed by the moonlight. In the distance she could see the lights of the fireflies roaming through the hills, and then his hands were traveling down her arms, hot on her bare skin, yet soft from the fabric of those gloves.
"Don't move," he finally whispered.
And she obeyed letting the feel of those hands wash over her tiny frame. Then his lips were on her ear, hot breath tickling her cheek, and she let out a little sigh as those familiar shivers engulfed her, soft lips opening to the touch.
On fire.
They could both taste it, consumed with what was to transpire, and then he was removing his gloves, gloves that he never removed, tossing them into the grass.
"My dear Alice," he whispered.
His voice drifted over her, soft like a gentle breeze, and then his hands….
And then one by one the stars exploded above them.