The moving castle
Solas had been gone for hours, from the comforting warmth of their fire and from breakfast; six eggs and a sausage.
She didn’t enjoy the food as it was presented, but in the rays of early sun she accepted it, a tiny smirk and a little laughter, humming with content.
Relishing the smell of morning as she sat on the dirt by the fire, digging groves with the tips of her toes, forming poems with the flowers of her thoughts.
Small daydreams of pleasant futures, a childs gurgle and forehead kisses, soup boiled for eight hours and carrots ripped straight from the ground just before being eaten.
It was three hours later, judging the by sound of her voice, that he came through a foliage thicker than truth.
A gentle, small smile played on his lips and he wore his heart on his sleave, coming close enough to whisper.
“You said you liked these,” he nodded, with the night sky in his eyes and purple berries in his hands. “So I found some.”
It was at that moment, where everything changed, and this is how she felt it; a sun only rising once to never settle, the sugar sweet tug of her lips, showing her teeth.
“You were gone for so long!” She mumbled, stuffing berries into her mouth; to taste the sour sweetness, or to free his hands for a touch and a new discovery.
“But I came back,” he whispered, placing a smile on the tip of his tounge.
She laughed and danced around him, reciting stories of their untold future, telling him tales of a new and old home.
She dropped another two berries in her mouth and whispered a poem left untold.
“You are a love of mine,” she sang, before seeking his lips with her own.
She stayed silent under his curious gaze, still swaying her hips to the song of their love, chewing on her bottom lip.
“You came back and I treasure it,” she said, coming closer and settling her hand above his heart, placing a feather in the dip of his bones. “We have forever to talk about it.”