A/N: A fic gift for the awesome Mazen. The title and overall inspiration for this piece came from the song "Let Your Fingers Do the Walking" by the Danish band Sort Sol. These were the images that came to my mind as I listened to it, and I hope that it captures the mood you were looking for (at least a little bit haha).
Belated Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you like it huhu!
The full moon shone clear and bright in the sky, casting faint shadows in the otherwise dark forest. In the distance, two figures approach. A man cloaked in darkness and a woman dressed in white.
He is leading the way, letting his lantern illuminate their path. And she grips his hand tightly, fearing that the shadows of the forest would come alive and ensnare him.
This was not what she had imagined when he promised her an unforgettable wedding night.
Unlike other couples on St. Valentine's Day, they could not simply dine at a crowded restaurant or walk hand in hand in the light of day. Yet he had assured her that they would celebrate the special occasion—their first as husband and wife—as soon as the sun set.
They boarded a train late in the evening, bringing along so few possessions; only the clothes on their back and a few essentials tucked away in their respective luggage. Every once in a while, he would glance as her as though he were nervous that she was not enjoying herself.
She squeezed his hand and smiled sweetly.
"It doesn't matter where we go as long as we're together."
Now, however, as he led her through the woods, she felt herself almost regretting her words. The darkness surrounding them did nothing to quiet her anxious thoughts.
Sensing her fears, he turns and gives her a soft smile. "I know you can't picture it yet, my love, but the walk will be worth the wait."
He lets his thumb caress the back of her hand, massaging it in soothing circular motions. She smiles up at him, her expression full of light and love, and plants a gentle kiss on his uncovered cheek.
"I trust you, Erik."
As they come closer to reaching their intended destination, he asks her to cover her eyes. She places a hand over them and lets the voice of her Angel lead her forward.
After a few minutes of walking, he asks her to open them again.
The sight before her took her breath away.
He had led her to a beautiful, secluded lake, one so vast that she cannot tell where the water ended and the sky began. The glassy lake was covered in a blanket of stars, bathed in the warm glow of the heavens. Awestruck, she sets her shoes aside and walks closer to it, dipping her toes in the water and watching the waves create ripples of moonlight.
On the ground near the waters, a picnic blanket, surrounded by a few candles, had been set. Plates of the freshest fruit and bottles of the finest wine sat waiting for them.
For a time, he simply watches her, watches as she submerges her feet in the shallow end of the lake. In her cream dress, surrounded by shimmering water, illuminated by the full moon's glow, she looks every bit like the celestial being he had always believed her to be.
If he could capture this moment and make time stop, he would have done so. He paints the scene in his mind's eye, committing every little detail to memory as if he were afraid that he would suddenly wake up and realize that it was all a dream.
"Do you like your surprise, my Christine?"
She turns around and looks up at him, eyes as shining as bright as the stars above them, "Erik, it's perfect."
.
Hunger sated, they sit by the waters and talk, her head resting on his lap. He strokes her brown curls as she recounts memories from her childhood, how she and her father used to spend countless nights under the stars when they did not have enough money to find suitable lodging.
Even though they had no roof over their heads, they were content. Her father always found a way to make her see the beauty of the heavens, pointing out the constellations and igniting her imagination with fanciful stories of myths and legends.
Silver tears stream down her cheeks as she speaks. Like precious pearls from the sea and drops of moonlight from the sky.
She senses her husband panicking, not wanting to see her cry. To ease his worries, she entwines her fingers with his and smiles at him gratefully. "Thank you for bringing these memories back to me."
He leans down to kiss her, tasting cherries and red wine on her lips, a heady mixture that set his soul alight. She arches closer, slanting her mouth across his. Her desire steadily increasing in urgency but not with haste.
A low, gravelly rumble issues from his chest, dragging her deeper into their spellbinding kiss.
She wanted—no, needed—more of him. His scent intoxicated her and the intensity of his gaze made the craving even more unbearable.
Slowly but intently, she stands up, taking both of his hands and leading him down to the lake. They stop once the water reaches his waist. Locking eyes, they shed their clothes and dive deeper.
She is the one who takes his mask off, gently caressing the ruins of his cheek. The same face that had made him an outcast in society only made him all the more special in her eyes.
Underneath the moonlight, his hard edges look softer. He leans into her touch, a blend of melancholy and gratefulness in his expression. Even though no words were said, it was as if they each could understand what the other was saying.
As if their hearts were beating the same rhythm. Twin souls locked in a harmonious duet.
Tonight, the waters and the heavens embrace like lovers. And in the space where they are joined, two figures float; lips meeting, bodies moving in a graceful, sensual dance. As they float, arms wrapped around each other, it felt as though they were one.
One with each other and with the world.
Her fingers move to caress his chest, and his trace a path from her inner thigh to the space between her legs, the warm mound that ached for his touch.
His strokes are precise, practiced. A musician who has mastered his instrument.
Yet he knew when to play by ear. He savored her soft moans and sighs of pleasure, the enthralling sounds that his skilled fingers had coaxed from her.
"Erik," she breathes, his name a prayer on her lips.
His large, calloused hand cups the back of her head, bringing her flushed face closer to his. She closes the gap between them, kissing him tenderly, her tongue tracing the uneven shape of his bottom lip like an explorer coming across uncharted terrain.
He continues his ministrations, wanting to hear her say his name again and again as if it were the only word that matters. If victors build monuments and kings erect statues in their image, his legacy will be his beloved speaking his name long after the earth claims him.
She arches her back, quaking in ecstasy.
"Erik. Erik. Oh, Erik."
With her love, he is immortal.
They are weightless, flying in this liquid sky with only the other's body to anchor them. Her arms wrapped around his neck instinctively and her legs do the same with his waist.
She feels his hardness pressing against her thighs, seeking entrance, and she opens her legs wider to welcome him. Her lips part in a silent moan as he thrusts himself deeper inside. And at last, they are one.
The once-still waters move in time with their song, bodies illuminated in the full moon's glow, as they reaffirm their love through passionate, loving touches.
The world seems to spin as the pressure within him threatens to erupt. He bucks his hips against her fervently, his hands cupping her face tenderly as he breathes endearments in her ear. Her lips claim his neck, kissing, biting as he fills her with his desire.
And he doesn't know how to thank her for granting him this wedding night, which is so much more than what he had expected.
Instead, he lets the silence speak for him as he holds her close, letting her feel his erratic heartbeat slowing into a steady rhythm.
"I love you," she whispers as she rests her head on his chest. He says the words back to her, a promise that only strengthens with repetition.
The waters seem to envelop them, baptizing them, blessing their union. The stars shine brighter, bathing their bodies in golden light.
They emerge from the lake, naked as the day they were born. Two beings made new by their love.