JК
Mistrals Kiss :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 30 из 148It was a thin layer of my guards’ shirts and tunics, just enough so that I wouldn’t pierce my bodyon the dead vegetation. It amounted to all the clothing the men were wearing, which hadn’t been much — and it left them all nude. I could still feel the dry sticks, crumbling leaves, dry and withered, crushed underneath me.
It wasn’t the feel of the ground in winter. No matter how cold the winter, how deep the snow, there is a feeling of waiting in the ground then — a sense that the land is merely asleep, and the sun will wake it, and spring will come. Not here. It was like the difference between a body that is deeply asleep and one that is dead. At a glance, your eyes may see no difference, but if you touch it, you know. The ground that Abeloec’s body pressed me into held nothing — no warmth, breath, life. Empty, like the eyes of the dead that but a moment ago held personality, and now are like dark mirrors. The gardens weren’t waiting for reawakening; they were just dead.
But we weren’t dead.
Abeloec laid his naked body against mine and kissed me. The height difference meant that all he could do was kiss me, but it was enough. Enough to conjure that moonglow inside our bodies.
He raised up on his arms to stare down at my face. His skin glowed so bright that again his eyes became like dark grey caves in his face. I’d never met any sidhe whose eyes did not glow when their power came upon them. His long hair spilled out around us, and the white lines in his hair began to glow softly blue, like before. He raised higher on his arms, almost in a push-up, so that his body was suspended above mine on hands and toes.
Pale blue lines glowed through the white of his skin. Flowing images of vines and flowers, and trees, and animals. Nothing stayed, nothing lasted. There weren’t that many lines, and they didn’t move that fast. I should have been able to tell what kind of vine, what fruit, what animal, but beyond small, or large, it was as if my mind couldn’t hold the images.
I traced the blue with my fingers, and it trailed over my hand, tickled and teased across the white glow of my own skin. And even staring at my own hand, I couldn’t tell you what plant it was that grew and flowered there. It was as if I weren’t meant to see it, or at least not to understand it. Not yet, maybe not ever.
I stopped trying to make sense of the flowing lines, and gazed down the length of Abeloec’s body where it stretched above mine. He held himself above me like a shelter, as if he could have stayed there forever and never tired. I reached down his body, worming underneath his steady strength, until I could wrap my hand around the hard length of him.
It wasn’t the feel of the ground in winter. No matter how cold the winter, how deep the snow, there is a feeling of waiting in the ground then — a sense that the land is merely asleep, and the sun will wake it, and spring will come. Not here. It was like the difference between a body that is deeply asleep and one that is dead. At a glance, your eyes may see no difference, but if you touch it, you know. The ground that Abeloec’s body pressed me into held nothing — no warmth, breath, life. Empty, like the eyes of the dead that but a moment ago held personality, and now are like dark mirrors. The gardens weren’t waiting for reawakening; they were just dead.
But we weren’t dead.
Abeloec laid his naked body against mine and kissed me. The height difference meant that all he could do was kiss me, but it was enough. Enough to conjure that moonglow inside our bodies.
He raised up on his arms to stare down at my face. His skin glowed so bright that again his eyes became like dark grey caves in his face. I’d never met any sidhe whose eyes did not glow when their power came upon them. His long hair spilled out around us, and the white lines in his hair began to glow softly blue, like before. He raised higher on his arms, almost in a push-up, so that his body was suspended above mine on hands and toes.
Pale blue lines glowed through the white of his skin. Flowing images of vines and flowers, and trees, and animals. Nothing stayed, nothing lasted. There weren’t that many lines, and they didn’t move that fast. I should have been able to tell what kind of vine, what fruit, what animal, but beyond small, or large, it was as if my mind couldn’t hold the images.
I traced the blue with my fingers, and it trailed over my hand, tickled and teased across the white glow of my own skin. And even staring at my own hand, I couldn’t tell you what plant it was that grew and flowered there. It was as if I weren’t meant to see it, or at least not to understand it. Not yet, maybe not ever.
I stopped trying to make sense of the flowing lines, and gazed down the length of Abeloec’s body where it stretched above mine. He held himself above me like a shelter, as if he could have stayed there forever and never tired. I reached down his body, worming underneath his steady strength, until I could wrap my hand around the hard length of him.