She smiles, and the smile turns into a laugh, and before they know it they’re both laughing and rolling over and mud and grass are getting on their clothes and faces and hair but neither of them really mind, much; there’s a lightness in the air that was never there before, and a kiss that tastes like July rain, and all of it feels a little bit…[Read more]
So he swallows and looks. It’s not hard.
“I don’t want to forget,” he says, and there’s a sort of pounding in his veins, how easy it is to want, how easy it could be just to reach out and touch, and how final this feels, like two people who are meeting for the last time in their last life.
He shakes his head and smiles. Too late, he…[Read more]
“I don’t understand,” she says, and it’s sort of funny, really, how she can look at him with any sort of expression and still the light behind her makes it look like she’s glowing.
He breathes. The light breathes. It hurts to look at her – she’s so bright and so beautiful and she is everything he wants in the world.
“I don’t want to lose…[Read more]
It’s not easy. It’s never easy.
The memory of it haunts him like a dream, like a broken record; the sound of something that shouldn’t be, where he’s dragged off when all he wants – wanted to do – was shout to the world. But they don’t listen because stricken-deep impressions can only change so much (nothing at all).
He’s not a king.