'Tell me,' his hand caresses your hair, with your back pressed on his chest, whilst you gingerly kiss his free hand. 'What is it that you hide from me?' he enquires as if the thought just struck him. You know far more than to say so nevertheless. Words emerge on his tongue, and hesitant, he swallows them in like they've never existed, like he has never overthought them.
You chuckle at his question, and it appears you're evading such a question. 'You know, some matters are to be thought before they are communicated. You'll comprehend it all at the precise time.'
When is the precise time? Is he not ready, or are you not? he stares at your slumbering figure, oblivious to the unanswered questions in his mind.
all is sunk in quietude.
YOU ARE READING
silver ichor.
Fanfiction୨◟❪ i ❫⁀𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗱𝗲፡ in which𓂃 valuable moments never lasted to long for him, like a firefly; you've taught him how to love ! ୧ ✷ @jemvia, 23 & 24.
