[ Time has stepped away. Even farther from her, in here, than it had been at the fire, for the fire had flickered and crackled and let her know that the world outside them was still moving. The sounds of others had been nearer, every once in a while someone would walk between the tents and change the landscape with their presence.
Here, in the dim light of the latest afternoon's sun slanting against one canvas wall, the only other movement is the small breath of the wind and the little shadowed dance it makes of the leaves. There is nothing of man's design in it, and it makes her feel as slow and sure as trees. She is no god, no creature of forever, but right now? The pads of her fingers brush eternity along with the side of his face, the line of his neck until she loses it into the cloth and leather that still covers him. Which she wants to be gone; goes back to searching out how.
But there is so much to feel, so much to attend to. Even with the way she is trained and practiced in taking in vast amounts of information from the world around her, she is forced to flutter from sense to sense inside herself. Where her fingers feel for fastenings, find them, loose them. The warmth in the places where the undoing has let her in enough to touch the shape of him beneath, one layer closer to skin. The way the repeated bare press of her lips against the skin she can reach— slow now, lingering— makes them tingle. The breath those presses shudders out of him that she wants to turn the whole of her to hearing, so much each one aches her heart with joy. Her own breath, a warm tickle in the space between her nose and lip as her closeness traps it between them. The smell of his hair, the way it is similar enough for her body to remember it as meaning safe. His hands on her, moving as hers do, nimble-swift in their quest to bare her to their touch. The solidity of his thighs, still held between hers. The faint effervescence of anticipating what that press of him against her will eventually mean. There is hardly enough room in her for all of this, what room could there possibly be for anything else?
He speaks, her kisses smile again, but Alexandrie finds she is saying everything she wants to be in silence. ]
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Here, in the dim light of the latest afternoon's sun slanting against one canvas wall, the only other movement is the small breath of the wind and the little shadowed dance it makes of the leaves. There is nothing of man's design in it, and it makes her feel as slow and sure as trees. She is no god, no creature of forever, but right now? The pads of her fingers brush eternity along with the side of his face, the line of his neck until she loses it into the cloth and leather that still covers him. Which she wants to be gone; goes back to searching out how.
But there is so much to feel, so much to attend to. Even with the way she is trained and practiced in taking in vast amounts of information from the world around her, she is forced to flutter from sense to sense inside herself. Where her fingers feel for fastenings, find them, loose them. The warmth in the places where the undoing has let her in enough to touch the shape of him beneath, one layer closer to skin. The way the repeated bare press of her lips against the skin she can reach— slow now, lingering— makes them tingle. The breath those presses shudders out of him that she wants to turn the whole of her to hearing, so much each one aches her heart with joy. Her own breath, a warm tickle in the space between her nose and lip as her closeness traps it between them. The smell of his hair, the way it is similar enough for her body to remember it as meaning safe. His hands on her, moving as hers do, nimble-swift in their quest to bare her to their touch. The solidity of his thighs, still held between hers. The faint effervescence of anticipating what that press of him against her will eventually mean. There is hardly enough room in her for all of this, what room could there possibly be for anything else?
He speaks, her kisses smile again, but Alexandrie finds she is saying everything she wants to be in silence. ]