you're a fraud and you know it
but it's too good to throw it all away
All his regrets, all his shortcomings, clung like chains that could never be loosened from his feet, and Roland fell victim to their cruel machinations every time, dragged back into the dark corners of his mind, battered by unpleasant memories. He had been too focused, to encapsulated in reliving past sorrows to hide the turmoil from his gaze, too distracted to put on a smile for the Songbird, leave his guilt behind. Before he knew it, she was fighting back against the storm within his mind. Her voice at once gave ease to his worries, drew him away from the weighty feeling of regret and loss. The light in her eyes, the sprightly smile upon her lips, all pulled him from the thoughts that had held him in so firm a grip, and they were forgotten like ash and dust. As she reached out to him, the Phantom let his eyes fall shut, leaning into the brush of her lips against his forehead with a sense of relief. The nagging feeling that had tugged so relentlessly at the back of his mind eased, disintegrated, until there was only silence, her touch, her warmth, and the chime of her easy laughter.
She had educated him in many things, shown him time and time again the path to take, a brilliant beacon for him to follow, to strive towards. He had not forgotten their meeting in the caves, how she had found him in the midst of an unfathomable darkness, corruption reigning above their heads, and made him forget he was entrenched in shadow, prey to the plagued beasts he had seen above the ground.
Roland's gaze softened as he looked at her, hesitating for just a moment so he could take her all in, admire the lines of her face and how the light fell across the curve of her neck, dancing along the edges of her hair as a crown of gold. He could get lost in the dark of her eyes, the love and happiness he could see swimming there, and could only hope that the memory he would carry away of this moment would be just as profound. "
You have," he murmured, voice just a low whisper in the quiet of an early morning, smile dancing at the corner of his lip. He half expected her to withdraw then, with mention of something that needed tending to, work that demanded completion, and leave him to shake himself awake and go about his own day. He was prepared for the air to cool his skin in her absence, no longer heated by the warmth that radiated from her frame, and knew that he would not like to see her go.
Instead, she ducked back into an embrace, brushed her lips across his cheek, outlined his jaw in a wave of warm breath he felt keenly against his skin, peppered caresses down his neck and across the sensitive skin of his throat. When she pressed the words
you should into his skin he could not remember what they were in reply to, had all but forgotten the string of their conversation up to this point as the Songbird brushed her lips against his chest, curled into him with her graceful form, sketching sinuous lines across the golden planes of his skin, loving patterns and contours.
Every touch sparked another blossom of heat along his skin, a pinprick of flame, and he could feel his own pulse within his throat, hear his heart within his chest, hammering away with every movement. As the Songbird brushed away his earlier concerns he reached out to her shoulder, tucked his nose beneath the dark hair that fell across her neck, breathed her in to steady himself. At his neck every touch, every caress was another thing he never knew he'd needed, a sensation he never realized he had been missing. A shiver worked its way along his spine as he pressed into her side, lowering his head as he arched into her embrace, while feather-light whispers of pressure danced along the lines of his neck until he could count them no longer, and when he pressed a kiss of his own to her cheek in gratitude, he felt her tremble beneath his lips.
The whispering of endearments across his skin was an anchor that he clung to, caught in an unfamiliar pattern, a dizzying cadence, until it was just the two of them, and the whole world narrowed down to one point, leaving only the tune, the rhythm, the dance.
@Lena
sometimes you even fool yourself a bit
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[P] Yet greater still and more profound
