[size=9pt]The french. It'd grown on him. He'd never given a fuck about language. Hell, his introduction to the bilingual members of the Ascendants was Gabriel-- if he ended up hating all the Mon dieu's and Bonjour's, it'd be justifiable. But he loved it. He held the language so close to his heart now, associated it with Imperia so strongly, that if he were to hear anyone else use it, it'd just feel wrong. They didn't speak like she did.
Something tight wound itself around his throat when she turned his way and spoke. Like a boa constrictor of foreign emotion he couldn't name. It made his face feel warm, and there was a prickling at his eyes that he could only hope weren't tears. That'd be ridiculous. Ridiculous. But he'd missed her more than he realized.
The hug takes him so severely off guard, whatever threat of tears in his golden gaze quickly disappears. He goes tense immediately, shoulders stiff and head lifted upright as the wolf presses her face into his neck. But then, slowly, the scent of the flowers, wilting now, reach his senses and her soft words, spoken so close to his ears, float into his mind and he slumps. He a breath, one he hadn't realized he'd been holding in, and presses his chin ever so gently down against her head. He doesn't know what to do with himself, doesn't know where all this touch came from, but it feels like it's meant to be. Like if he interrupts it, Aphrodite herself will come down from the skies and knock him out. "Missed you too." says the lion, as quiet as it is soft, as he's all too aware of their surroundings. But he feels like he needs to say it. It feels like a mandatory cheesy proclamation, a masked confession.
"Could-- Could we go somewhere?" he says, once he's dragged himself a step away from her. The loss of contact feels cold, but at that moment, he's completely overwhelmed. It shows in the set of his eyes, the shape of his lips. He needs out, out of the gazes that surround them, out of the vast plains that stretch before them. Somewhere for them. Voice quiet with thinly concealed desperation, he says, "I just want-- I need to-- you know. Will you come with me? Please?"
Something tight wound itself around his throat when she turned his way and spoke. Like a boa constrictor of foreign emotion he couldn't name. It made his face feel warm, and there was a prickling at his eyes that he could only hope weren't tears. That'd be ridiculous. Ridiculous. But he'd missed her more than he realized.
The hug takes him so severely off guard, whatever threat of tears in his golden gaze quickly disappears. He goes tense immediately, shoulders stiff and head lifted upright as the wolf presses her face into his neck. But then, slowly, the scent of the flowers, wilting now, reach his senses and her soft words, spoken so close to his ears, float into his mind and he slumps. He a breath, one he hadn't realized he'd been holding in, and presses his chin ever so gently down against her head. He doesn't know what to do with himself, doesn't know where all this touch came from, but it feels like it's meant to be. Like if he interrupts it, Aphrodite herself will come down from the skies and knock him out. "Missed you too." says the lion, as quiet as it is soft, as he's all too aware of their surroundings. But he feels like he needs to say it. It feels like a mandatory cheesy proclamation, a masked confession.
"Could-- Could we go somewhere?" he says, once he's dragged himself a step away from her. The loss of contact feels cold, but at that moment, he's completely overwhelmed. It shows in the set of his eyes, the shape of his lips. He needs out, out of the gazes that surround them, out of the vast plains that stretch before them. Somewhere for them. Voice quiet with thinly concealed desperation, he says, "I just want-- I need to-- you know. Will you come with me? Please?"
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; height: auto; text-align: center; font-family: ; font-size: 9pt; color: COLOR; letter-spacing: -.5px;"][i][b]and die like a hero going home.[glow=black,2,300]