Tuesday Tales, Of What Do You Speak....
Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! I hope you enjoyed an Easter weekend full of peace, love, and rejuvenation. Spring is heading rapidly our direction in Texas, thunderstorms provided a cozy backdrop to life this morning. This week our group writes to the word prompt, "speak". How does Finn really feel? From Steal My Heart, book 4 WIP from The Fantasy League series.
Pl ease visit us at our main site for more interpretations of "speak".
I don’t
remember falling asleep. Somewhere between languid kisses and exhaustion,
Danika cradled my head perfectly between her collar bone and neck. A dreamless
slumber, because she was my dream, I slept the contentment of a small child. I
didn’t recall such a restorative night, in all my years snuggled under a
blanket for the comfort that never fully existed. I found a missing piece of
security, all in the rhythm of her deep breaths and occasional whimpers.
She’d
never understand the depth of my contentment. When I awakened tangled within
her shelter, I knew I was a changed man.
I
foolishly believed my lottery scholarship topped my list of life’s highs. Now,
with Danika lying against me, her skin to mine, I knew no amount of money would
top the concept of her…her and I. I could have it all, no matter how tough the struggle.
I’d make it work. She breathed sharply, sounding a strange blend between gasp
and moan. Was she dreaming? Maybe a nightmare I could protect her from. I
embraced her tightly, pulling her into the shelter of my body. I’d never let
anything happen to her, I shuddered the thought- a thousand images of horror
blanked my consciousness. Kissing her forehead, making the promise of a hundred
years ago, in valor, she’d be my charge.
What if
everyone had such a comfort? Having
someone’s back became more meaningful. The sorrows of the world wouldn’t stop,
dangers lurked, and I had a new responsibility. Danika. She shifted, slipping
to her side. I naturally spooned behind, taking in the scent of her shampoo.
Desire became tenderness while our bodies softened into rest. My future schedule
ran through my mind. I once prided myself there wasn’t anyone I needed to see
or speak to everyday. The next level of our relationship showed me those days
had passed.
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Trisha Faye