life… life is busy, friends. and school more so.
i have many drabbles that vary in subject and time and place, but this will be a series of vignettes, because i miss writing terribly, and need to exercise my brain. but for now, this is all i have the time for. These are loosely based of the stylings and writings of one of my favorite authors, Lang Leav. Lullabies is her latest work, and perfection at that.
jae
He begins to lose her in waves.
Her touch is the first thing to leave him. Soft, warm hands, he remembers, ghosting over his arms, trailing across his neck in the early hours of the morning. A touch that would snake along his shoulders in the dark of the night, when his mind had made half the journey to the land of sleep.
Come with me to Neverland, he would implore her.
He'd always receive a shy smile in reply, her lips meeting his bare shoulder blades. There she would press her face into him, drag a smooth leg up the side of his as she molded her body to his. He would never make it much longer after that; too calming a presence, her breaths coming out deeply against his skin. Neverland would soon follow, his eyes slipping close at the feeling of her all around him.
In his dreams, he still meets her there.
But he could never stay there long. Her touch would bring him back, time and time again. Her lips, her hands, her skin. She pulls him from sleep, and a lazy smile instantly slips across his face, make him release a breath of laughter into the pillow, inhaling her scent ingrained in the fabric.
He never wanted it to end.
Her touch would pull him out of reach of the demons, of nightmares filled with almosts and what ifs?
She would always bring him home.
She is still with him, or so it feels. He feels her presence so strongly. It transcends time and space and every moment in-between. The memories of the past are vivid, reaching him here and now. He feels her presence so strongly, it is how he knows he will see her again in the future. She does not abide to the laws of the Universe. She reaches out to him through time, drawing him toward her with every day.
He just hopes it is soon.
It is funny to him. No longer does he remember a time she wasn't there. She is his past, his present, his future. His every heartbeat, his every breath.
The line rings twice.
"Are you okay, Tony?"
"Hurry soon. I'm forgetting the warmth of your touch." She is so far away. Perhaps it is the darkness of night that makes her feel a universe away from him.
"I will see you soon. The second star to the right, yes?"
He grins into the phone against his ear, closing his eyes. He swears he can feel the ghost of her touch against his jaw.
"Straight on 'till morning."