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She didn’t like his stare, knew it was meant to intimidate, but in this moment, she couldn’t help but draw comfort from it. He, at least, saw her.
beam of silver moonlight had lit her curves, particles of glittering dust dancing around her, and the world had slowed. Sikthand hadn’t watched her. Suspended in time, he’d beheld her. A goddess carved from the moon itself.
Transferring the reins into one hand, he dragged his other arm out of her iron grip. She scratched at his wrist, a bitter spike of fear permeating the fresh air, but settled when he slipped his forearm around her waist, cementing her against his front. Her head dipped in the direction of his hold. Would she ask him to remove his arm? After a moment, her shaking fingers inched upward. Her whole body vibrated with fear, but she lifted her hand into the air, trying to hold it steady against the wind. When she reached as high as her arm would allow, she spread her fingers and beamed.
During their meetings, he loved to watch her read the most. He’d study her nose, waiting for the moment it scrunched. A question wouldn’t be far behind, and he looked forward to the instant her beautiful eyes connected with his as she asked it.
“How am I supposed to stay away from you when you react like this to my touch?” His words were somewhere between a groan and a defeated sigh.
What are you doing to me, my love?
“My life has been…wrought. Each day is filled with dread and suspicion and fixation.” He glanced at the floor, his brows knitting. “She brings me silence.” Sikthand swallowed down the tightness in his throat. “The clouds are not so heavy when she’s near.”
