The Archetype: Star-Crossed Lovers
There’s a thick silence between the two of them. It reminded her of the biting wind back home, the dance of a thousand prickles under a cold-hearted moon on a winter night. Except this time, she felt like she was standing in the dark alone, wrapped in nothing but a silk nightgown.
His calloused hands wrapped around her midsection as she laid against his chest. She inhaled deeply, her eyes fluttering to a close. The notes of his cologne felt like they were burning her nose, singeing her insides.
“Give it some time, love,” he murmured against the crown of her head, draping his arms around her and shrouding her form. She felt impossibly small in his grasp, her body seemingly disappearing the longer she laid in his arms. All that remained was his hands under her own, warm palms massaging her trembling bones.
She tightened her grip, holding onto him as if he would slip through the grass and disappear any minute now.
“And then?” she whispered, her sore throat crying out as she stared into the blank canvas of the sky. The unspoken suggestion tasted acrid, a swift terror ripping into her body with a single claw.
His arms tightened around her body. For a moment, they could pretend that the question wasn't so heavy. That the answer didn't feel so selfish.
“You want to risk everything?” she laughed dryly, her tears turning to ice against her cold cheeks. “On a mere chance?”
He laughed into her hair, patting the stray hairs down with a soft, knowing hand. His laugh made her chest nearly collapse in on itself, startled with the realization that it might be the last time that she would be able to hear it in all of its glory.
“There's nothing I'd want more, love,” He answered with a small peck against the crown of her head.
She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she couldn’t stand the way he called on her so sweetly. How it sounded old on his tongue, how he sounded more like an old man than the dream she fell for in the first place.
She wanted to tell him that “love” was what he was supposed to call her in the future. What he was supposed to call her decades later, lying in each other’s arms and reminiscing on the years they had spent together.
But the words died in her throat. And for a moment, she was small again, sitting in her mother’s lap while the woman brushed her hair. She could hear her mother’s voice playing in the back of her mind, broken and small.
‘Love has nothing to offer but a sliver of sweetness. Only a human would swallow something so poisonous for a chance to experience it in a lifetime.'
'Don't fall for it, dear. The world may just swallow you whole in the process.'
“Love?” He asked, looking down in an attempt to search her eyes for answers.
But the night was empty, and he couldn’t find them in the dark.
🎶: Keep Me In Love by Alina Baraz
7 notes
·
View notes
What is your headcanoniest capital H Headcanon? The hill you will die on in fandom because you KNOW even if you can't prove it?
Mine is Deep Space Nine Season 7 Episode 16 "Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges", Sisko was cooperating with section 31 and, by the end of the episode, Bashir suspects this to be the case which is why he does not alert security about Sloan.
6 notes
·
View notes