minta, aeyonghaneun . . . ( the dragoness breaths, her eyes engraving the blending of the sun’s fractures against araminta stevens’s bare skin into the crevices of her mind. the woman murmurs in response beneath her touch, eyelashes fluttered shut as she stamps kisses like wax seals against the ivory of ailieu’s figure. araminta pulls away and her irises gleam the same citrine of cut zircon. areum can not see the string of honey connecting skin to skin, but the taste of the other’s lips against her in the blink of hooded eyes has her relishing in it’s suavity nonetheless.
the two darken the pink of their lips till they are both kiss stained, remnants of ripe apricots.
ailieu finally pulls from her, araminta’s fingertips pushing warm dents into the soft of her waist. )
ara, you come here every night, barren of your persona and I can’t help but think that this is what it means to fall in love. turbulent and passionate, you pull me under again and again.
( ailieu speaks, orchid hues trained on the window which allows a sliver of the raw sunrise to seep, to spill, and to overflow into the room they share. she shakes her head, mind a flurry of thoughts that do not show behind the jade of her gaze. an enclave of their love is all this room is, she thinks. swallowing, she remembers. ailieu areum yu does not have the presence of someone who could love the way they live. yet. she lives in this carving. thrives in the depths of it.
areum does not register the tear that trails down the tangerine tint of her cheek. her lover, kisses it from her cheek. her lips are cool of steel yet ailieu disolves. )
