therapize: (yeah you've got zero chance)
Camille O'Connell ([personal profile] therapize) wrote2015-02-12 06:43 pm
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[Entranceway] IC Inbox



This is Cami; sorry I'm not here right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks.
poppycock: (#10259237)

[personal profile] poppycock 2016-12-04 04:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[ it's a strike to his chest, small but reverberating, to see her eyes closed in bliss, to see the tender reflection of that bliss in the soft curl of her smile, so tightly wound is his heart. it warms him, obliterating so much of the cold grief and uncertainty in his bones, suffused into his limbs. he can feel his features soften as she tucks herself into him, and it's with a slow exhale that he relaxes into her and lets his eyes close a moment later, lets her fill up every space inside of him that has been emptied and bruised by her absence.

by the violence and terror in which she was torn away. neither have happened here, and it's easy to pretend in this moment neither ever has. it is a healing, beautiful thing, to hold her and be held in return, his hand caressing into the dip of her spine, his lips finding the soft hair beside her temple, the curve of her cheek in slow succession.

the thoughts that had plagued him in the night have not abated nor faded into the recesses of his mind, but he is more than content to relent them to cherish her now. for her, so content; for himself, in his longing for it. its gravity; hers, pulling him in.
] I can't think of any one better. [ his voice is soft against her ear, his cheek resting against hers, raw with an honesty that defies its flirtatious melody. his fingers curl just so against her back. ]
Edited 2016-12-04 16:14 (UTC)
poppycock: (#10259361)

[personal profile] poppycock 2016-12-10 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ they did share a morning like this, bloody and terrible. they shared a night like this, perfect and wondrous, the quiet touches and lasting kisses awakening awe and radiating a force unlike any other into every part of him, every moment, until there was nothing else. he knows it now; knew it, then. but he has never known nor had this. he smiles, warm and small, feeling the affection of her kiss; remembering her joy—his joy—after he kissed her beneath those twinkling lights.

he feels it now, that joy. he's glad, not only because the horror that followed is unknown to her, but because they can feel it again, anew. yet the truth he knows settles in his heart, hard and heavy at the core of him, and not even the happiness in her eyes nor his can chase it fully away. he is glad, to have given into this here and now, thought he doesn't believe they was ever running away from this. even in the moments he would turn away, when she chose to do the same... his love for her was already living and breathing inside of him, pulling and riving him into her.

it was inevitable, how their story goes. how their hearts speak. how they want. his fingers reach to touch the hair at her temple, to feel it beneath his fingers.
] I don't believe we ever truly were. [ he will always find her, as they've found each other here. he loves her, as he always would.

his voice is captured; his breath stops looking at her. the bittersweet elation drops into his depths of his fears. he finds the will to breathe, ragged and audible, and moves his eyes away from her. his fingers curl over her shoulder, firm and desperate; he clings.
]
poppycock: (#10321917)

[personal profile] poppycock 2016-12-16 12:58 am (UTC)(link)
[ for how long? for how long will she be here, alive and unharmed? their story lead to this, yes: to the delicate and perfect strength of this contentment and love, but he remembers its inevitable course. he trembles with it, despite the warmth of being pressed so seamlessly against her.

it led to her blood and her death. his story has led to darknesses he can hardly abide and must, every day. his hand grips her shoulder, her arm. she is so solid and real in his grasp, and in this moment he cannot let her go. klaus lifts his eyes; he knows it is from her selfless desire to care for him that she offers those words, that she offers this. but he is not so selfish to let her.

perhaps it pains him too much to say. perhaps he knows what he must say will pain her, and that is pain enough. resolve takes him.
] I need to get back to my daughter. [ the words are rough, pulled from his throat.

he cannot stay here with her.

his heart cannot.
]