Lorcan didn't need a chaos theory to explain the whirlwind that were his feelings for the five feet tall girl standing across the hallway, unfamiliar to how the warrior's eyes traced every inch-known and still unknown-of her body, every part where the fabric gripped onto her skin and every part where it loosened. The softness of that pale skin made his hand itch with need and memories. He didn't need to hear how the way she first spoke to him, how her lips parted slowly and her heart skipped a beat, how the way her hair was braided, falling over her back like calm waves striking the seashore and her hands didn't know their place anymore-so she curled her fingers into fists-induced a storm or a hurricane across the world, how it could've set fire somewhere else that wasn't his heart. Because, when Elide looked at him like that, with half the galaxy contained in her eyes, like she was faithful to her words, how she meant them, and how she would save him again, again and again, the only chaos he could name was the flap of a butterfly's wings that set him in flames.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Trono de Vidro - Pequenos Contos
FanfictionApenas algumas coisas que escrevo quando estou inspirada. Todas as estórias aqui foram baseadas no universo e nos personagens da autora Sarah J. Maas, portanto, apenas as ideias são minhas.
