orfays

   ⠀ID:  ⟮ @magicker ⟯ 
            ⠀⠀⠀⠀┈┈┈─
            
            then, when will [YOU] be done?    *fingers prodding against the fine linen of his shirt. she smooths out the wrinkles as if any more pressure from the weight of her hand might do it. but it doesn’t abate, not once. something prowls at her, drawing her attention back to wülfric. sweat glints against the plane of his bare shoulders. it marvels her, as fire bursts into flame, cackling with a soft glow. eagerness wells inside her. miri sets his shirt aside, casting one last lingering glance at it. it is as black as night, and yet soft as silk. eventually, the wrinkles will wear out once it is back on his frame. she turns back to him, pushing onto her feet. prodding quietly across the room to the hearth, she comes to stand behind him, sorely.. as her mind drifts once more to varying thoughts.*       wülfric?       
            
            *humming, she whispers. her gaze lowers, lingering at the course of his wild strands at the nape of his neck. muscles, again.. core refining, they bulge from the movement of curved, bent motion whilst he stirs the fire, coals hissing as fumes rise. without so much as a thought, she bends.    (..)   miri presses her nose against the mossy, sweat-seeped line of his strong jaw, just as well her right hand grabs the back of his neck. she feels herself kneel, one hand pressing just above her knee to keep herself balanced. her other hand, however, latches into the warmth of his hair, dragging as her fingers curl. she turns his face, inching her head back.*        wülfric.

Don’t⎯⎯cross that line,     འuach. 

come on, miri. it wouldn’t have worked. 

(;;)  my bad you're being tortured though-

&.        pay back pt 2. ;)

&.        pay back. ;p 

   ⠀ID:  ⟮ @magicker ⟯ 
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            *her head raises in time to see him crouch onto his haunches. she eyes his outstretched hand, then shifts her gaze back to his face. rain clings to his cheeks, yet he appears unperturbed by it, droplets plopping onto the beige hardwood floor. miri hears herself scoff, reaching forward, and smacks his hand away. but it lasts for a moment only. she could never remain angry with him for long. her jaw tightens. she pushes herself onto her knees, reaching for him once again, but this time, she latches onto the collar of his shirt, her fingers digging into the fabric. warmth seeps into her palm, and she catches the dusk of his cologne. she says something, incoherently, before wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in the crook of his neck. he feels like home. as though all these years have never happened between them, and she is simply here.*

⠀⠀⠀      ⠀⠀⠀      ⠀⠀━━━  ꓄ʰᵉ    sound of her sniffles was that of an audacious octopus. he knew instantly she’d borrowed the space in his closet, coincidentally conjoined since childhood, the narrow passage of it sitting directly against her bedroom. wülfric stepped inside his bedroom, shutting the door behind him with a soft click as it settled into place. he strode across the room, coming to stand before the tall closet with its two sliding doors. his reflection stared back at him through the mirrors, and he swallowed against the swelling tide of emotion lodged in his throat. it seemed nothing between them had changed, while irrevocably, everything had taken shape.
            
            ⠀⠀⠀      ⠀⠀ he knelt, catching the recessed grip of the closet door and sliding it open. there, curled against the back wall, he found miri with tear-eroded cheeks and her face tucked toward her knees. the sight threw him miles into memories he had thought long buried. his fingers tightened around the door, his gaze lingering upon her for a moment before he extended his left hand toward her.
            
            ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ “i told you to find me, didn’t i?”