Not just the joining, the coming together she and Cassian share - that she'll only share with him from now until - (she won't think of that now)
But all of it. Everything. The ability to release and let free sounds not of anguish or of pain or of injury, but of light and stars and sunlight and warmth. To be able to exist alongside, with another because of choice - not in a cell, not as prisoners, not as forced comrades, but instead - partners.
Equals.
Willingly, magnificently coming together - seeing and acknowledging the other in a golden field, meeting in the middle, agreeing to go the rest of the way as two-into-one.
The dulcet melody of his laugh is one, she realizes, she's not yet heard. The beautiful breaking of his face to reveal the radiance underneath - the youthfulness long since stolen from his body bubbling up from a dormant spring somewhere inside - is breath-taking. Exhilarating. Addicting. She promises, vows to herself (and to him) to give him reason to break open that geyser, until it erupts at will - every day they are fortunate enough to spend together.
Every moment, breath, heartbeat they share.
She tucks herself in close to him, a delicious exhaustion washing over her - not because of labor or because of war, but instead because of creation. Closes her eyes, catches her breath, rests her palm on top of his thigh. Turns to kiss his neck, taste the salt of his skin.
"I doubt there will be many times I won't," she replies, airy voice to match his, as she playfully - lightly - jabs his ribs with her elbow.
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Not just the joining, the coming together she and Cassian share - that she'll only share with him from now until - (she won't think of that now)
But all of it. Everything. The ability to release and let free sounds not of anguish or of pain or of injury, but of light and stars and sunlight and warmth. To be able to exist alongside, with another because of choice - not in a cell, not as prisoners, not as forced comrades, but instead - partners.
Equals.
Willingly, magnificently coming together - seeing and acknowledging the other in a golden field, meeting in the middle, agreeing to go the rest of the way as two-into-one.
The dulcet melody of his laugh is one, she realizes, she's not yet heard. The beautiful breaking of his face to reveal the radiance underneath - the youthfulness long since stolen from his body bubbling up from a dormant spring somewhere inside - is breath-taking. Exhilarating. Addicting. She promises, vows to herself (and to him) to give him reason to break open that geyser, until it erupts at will - every day they are fortunate enough to spend together.
Every moment, breath, heartbeat they share.
She tucks herself in close to him, a delicious exhaustion washing over her - not because of labor or because of war, but instead because of creation. Closes her eyes, catches her breath, rests her palm on top of his thigh. Turns to kiss his neck, taste the salt of his skin.
"I doubt there will be many times I won't," she replies, airy voice to match his, as she playfully - lightly - jabs his ribs with her elbow.