Mal. There was no other way to describe the way he smelled. Mal smelled like Mal. Musky and masculine. Like gunpowder and aftershave. All of his clothes had the scent woven deep into the fabric.
She ran her hand down his shirt, taking in the soft, subtle texture. She outlined a button here and a button there. Her skin was pale against the dark blue, a cloud in the dark sky. She stopped at his hand and lightly set her fingertips against his.
He lifted his hand up and she pressed hers to his, palm to palm. His fingers neatly tangled themselves with hers. They fit perfectly together like a jigsaw puzzle. He led their hands to his chest where they rested over his heart.
She smiled to herself as he bent down and pressed his lips to her forehead.
"When violet eyes get brighter and heavy wings grow lighter, I'll taste the sky and feel alive again and forget the world that I knew, but I swear I won't forget you…" she whispered.
He looked down at her curiously, the question bubbling in the back of this throat. He decided to just grin and set his head against hers to enjoy the sweet craziness of the sentiment.
"Oh if my voice could reach back to the past, I'd whisper in your ear…oh darling I wish you were here…" she continued, even softer.
"But I am here," he frowned.
"I always wish you were here. If you are, then my wish has come true."
He smiled. "So has mine, darlin'."