Not once does Orpheus' gaze waver from her form. So long as he can see her, feel her hand in his, he can wait. The initial chaos of passion has settled into a throbbing anticipation. He has waited thousands of years for this. He can wait another few minutes.
He laughs as he chases her through the streets, the sound infused with a joy so pure it makes Orpheus want to rewrite a thousand songs he wrote before he knew what joy really felt like, and when they reach her block, he presses her back against the building and laughs into a kiss, hands coming up to frame her face.
Each time he kisses her, he half expects to find she's not there at all, and every kiss, every touch, every syllable of her voice sends a shock through him that trips his heart.
They're so close to her flat, but that only makes it more difficult to pull away from her.
Forgive my long absence! I had to re-read the whole thread because it's entirely too gorgeous.
He laughs as he chases her through the streets, the sound infused with a joy so pure it makes Orpheus want to rewrite a thousand songs he wrote before he knew what joy really felt like, and when they reach her block, he presses her back against the building and laughs into a kiss, hands coming up to frame her face.
Each time he kisses her, he half expects to find she's not there at all, and every kiss, every touch, every syllable of her voice sends a shock through him that trips his heart.
They're so close to her flat, but that only makes it more difficult to pull away from her.