otp: i smelled you miles away


Baby, I’m preying on you tonight

Hunt you down, eat you alive (…)

Maybe you think that you can hide

I can smell your scent from miles (…)

It’s like we can’t stop, we’re enemies (…)

You can pretend it’s meant to be, but you can’t stay away from me

Eredin & Ciri

thanks a million, dear anon!

I have no idea what “hot” means… *smiles ambiguously* I also like Ciredin (my very first otp… why? the answer is in “The Lady of the Lake”, feeeeeels) so I wholeheartedly understand you. :>

PS I will try to draw Iorweth and Saskia!

You know why.

The story starts like this: your head on my shoulder, your scent in my chest, the library asleep on a night as dark as my ink-stained fingertips on your skin. The world turned on its mad wheels but between these bookshelves you and I stayed fixed. You told me about a boy who lived by the fire and died by the sea. You said it was a glorious death, to fly too high and sink too low.

And you are right. There’s a cadence in your voice that’s akin to smoke. Listen to how it unfurls, how it tangles its ephemeral limbs with blood vessels, how it settles into lungs and all of a sudden it’s getting harder to breathe. There’s a mind that’s as brilliant as the sun. See how it burns down barriers around hearts and expands everlastingly, until entire solar systems are in ruins after its collapse.

8 minutes or 93 million miles away, there’s always a boy with fire for a heart. Find me here, behind the barred window of my tower rising amidst the shore, writhing with thirst. I want to drink the world in, I want to taste the sky, I want to know what the sun feels like on my skin and against my lips. So I gather up feathers.

I have wings of wax, and I fly too close to you.

Here’s the gasoline, here’s the match. Light me up and let me burn. I tumble down, my hollow bones filled with ash. It is exhilarating, the fall, and I reach for you but you don’t reach for me, because we can be 8 minutes but also 93 million miles apart. I smell the sea, I sense my impending death, but I choose to instead look at you, your corona – your crown, until the sea swallows me up and I drown.

And this is how the story ends. Now you know why.

—  an undelivered note from an engineer to a biochemist (iii)