He took her to Paris on the first night of February. The same night he had put his arms around her waist on a soft embrace, pulled her closer a few inches so he could feel her heart beating fast inside her chest, so he could feel her warmth and so that her arms could rest on his shoulders and neck—and they shared the longing first kiss of hundreds of millions of infinite. He took Elide to Paris when the moon was full up in the night starry sky, the same sky she had given him a passionate and hungry kiss right after the clock had stroke midnight, and Lorcan gave it back, hungrier; the same moon he had ripped off her blue shirt because he didn't think it made her justice enough and tasted the vanilla essence of her bath soap on her skin. He would buy dozen more. It had been the same dark blue of when Elide laid under him on the shared bed and moaned his name on a promise he could never forget. and when Lorcan took her to the Pont des Arts she knew it was forever, so she put the overflowing love into that small yellow padlock and smiled softly, stepping back and letting her hands find their way to his.
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.
