[ impossible not to think of the last man who knelt before her and hoisted her skirts — arms corded with muscle, head bowed in worship. the same dark hair falling in his face. everyone wants for something, even the most gallant of knights. but what could this man, in particular, possibly want for, when she has no power here, no standing, no son on the throne or on dragonback.
only embry’s hissed breath and tight grip pull her from her reverie. she looses a sharp inhale, big eyes searching for the source of his pain. if not for his hand clasping her wrist, she would have tugged it away. instead, his hold pulls everything taut between them. you burn my flesh on a recursive loop in her skull. alicent has back-handed cole for less, but she relaxes her arm in embry’s grip, fingers splaying wider over the curve of his shoulder. what sort of man lets someone plunge their fluttering hand into his wound? ]
You must have had quite the close call. [ with the wolf. it seems less like fun to downplay his hurt and more like the red beds of her nails, a self-inflicted punishment. still, he smiles up at her, as though he can think of no better place to suffer. warmth blossoms in her chest, unaided by the searing ache in her arm.
her handmaidens haven’t dressed her in weeks. when they did, it never felt as intimate as this (as draping the white cloak over cole’s broad shoulders). that he asks for her opinion on how to proceed is nothing short of a wonder. an offer of escape and an invitation to continue, unmistakable even to her untrained eyes. her lashes lower as his palm slides higher. ]
[ finally, the slightest quirk of her mouth, ] It’s a bold choice. [ the shoe, gold and glittering. and his touch at the back of her knee. she lifts her free hand to reward him for it, pushing a stray hair from his eyes and carding it back into its elegant sweep. ] You ought to see it through.
no subject
only embry’s hissed breath and tight grip pull her from her reverie. she looses a sharp inhale, big eyes searching for the source of his pain. if not for his hand clasping her wrist, she would have tugged it away. instead, his hold pulls everything taut between them. you burn my flesh on a recursive loop in her skull. alicent has back-handed cole for less, but she relaxes her arm in embry’s grip, fingers splaying wider over the curve of his shoulder. what sort of man lets someone plunge their fluttering hand into his wound? ]
You must have had quite the close call. [ with the wolf. it seems less like fun to downplay his hurt and more like the red beds of her nails, a self-inflicted punishment. still, he smiles up at her, as though he can think of no better place to suffer. warmth blossoms in her chest, unaided by the searing ache in her arm.
her handmaidens haven’t dressed her in weeks. when they did, it never felt as intimate as this (as draping the white cloak over cole’s broad shoulders). that he asks for her opinion on how to proceed is nothing short of a wonder. an offer of escape and an invitation to continue, unmistakable even to her untrained eyes. her lashes lower as his palm slides higher. ]
[ finally, the slightest quirk of her mouth, ] It’s a bold choice. [ the shoe, gold and glittering. and his touch at the back of her knee. she lifts her free hand to reward him for it, pushing a stray hair from his eyes and carding it back into its elegant sweep. ] You ought to see it through.