It seems I get my inspiration these days from all the wrong pairing fics and the heaviness of my eyes at three in the morning.
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There are some things she simply cannot be expected to forget.
There is the way the fields of gold in his eyes ripen along with an uninhibited smile, that familiar scorched mark becoming a symbol of vulnerability and not hostility, and the flutters of a dozen wings she didn't know resided in her stomach until another such smile surfaces reminds her, time and time again.
There are the words that betray his facade, much too cold for someone with embers in his veins, the wrenching defeat in his voice and the hunch of his proud shoulders that tells her it is all right to take his face into her cupped palm and bow his head to her shoulder, encircling his frame in an embrace of loose arms and misplaced tenderness.
There is the frustration gritting into his tone, the fury and anxiety knitting into the skin of his brow, crinkling his gaze and upturning his mouth, and how in all his idiocy all she seemed to want to do is crush that mouth to hers and try not to think of anything else.
And above all, there is a memory she has placed carefully in a forgotten shelf in her mind, of blazing apples and flowing water and a fumbling prince, with a little girl with too many ribbons in her hair and too much blood rushing to her cheeks, in a world where love was the little spark on her skin where his blessed it with a touch.
She cannot simply forget these things, which explains the burn of tears showing even in her trembling hand as she reads over his messy scrawl. The pain comes not only from being left behind, but from it having to happen yet again. She has waited three years for him him, and though he does not mention or plead for it she knows she will wait again.
She is beginning to lose his taste on her lips, and tipped with a harsh, calculating reality, she knows time will not help her remember.
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Please review.