She was soft and unbending, delicate and impossible in his hands. She was power, and powerful, and full of little intricacies that he felt with a sudden thrill of fear he’d never fully know because it would be like counting the stars, like naming grains of sand, and there could never possibly be enough time for any of it. He could feel all her little fissures, the cracklings of fury and desperation underneath, and he reached up to tug her hair loose, letting it fall gently around her shoulders with a rose-scented sigh, her lips parting slowly.
