shelley_winters | (no subject)

(no subject)

Shelley had been tired when they got back, so tired she had gone to bed immediately rather than reading as she normally did.

But sleep, when it came, was disturbed and confusing. It is warm in her room, but she shivers in her sleep, dancing alone in a room that is empty but she's being watched...

The girl sits up slowly, rubbing her eyes. The tension isn't going away even in the peace of the night, that prickling of undefinable vulnerable terror that the dreams she has been having leave her with.

After splashing her face with water, she quietly steps out of her room to wander down the corridor outside. It's dark and silent, which is oddly comforting as she walks up and down through the silent house, avoiding the area where Elan's study is. He sleeps little, and is often awake working at this time of night.

Her bare feet make no sound on the smooth floor, only the faint brush of her nightdress as she walks telling of her presence. She stops only to look out of the window for a time, trying to calm herself to sleep again. A soft mist has replaced the former clear sky, and she can only just make out the garden past it.

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Her shoulders hunch a little under his arm. She looks at him, green eyes wary.

"...What?"

His blue eyes calm and kind as he spoke in return. His voice soft.

"You were cold."

Shelley had said she was fine.

But arguing with the logic of that can't go anywhere.

She hugs her knees closer to herself, turning almost visibly inward.

A delicate touch from a hand as he watched her carefully, an arm around her still. He could feel her heartbeat. Little between them, really. It felt wonderful. His voice barely audible, that low, almost purr-like tone.

"...Shelley..."

Tensing again - even more, if it is possible - she glances at him, eyes very green though the hair which has fallen in front of her face.

"...What?"

There are things that words cannot express.

A gentle touch as a few fingertips slid across her cheek, as if Elan was curling his hand. A warm, touch. His heartbeat, and hers, both beating faster. Fear and passion.

Shelley shivers, expression taut.

She shouldn't be here. She knows it, but there's something stopping her leaving. She's frightened. It's nebulous, the reasoning, though. She knows if she asks him to stop, he will seem not to know what she means and then she will feel as if it was nothing too, and she can't let herself feel as though this is nothing.

Blue eyes search her, strip her. A nightdress is but cloth and his vision extends into the mists of the Ages, and across the infinite Mirrors. A smile, thought takes but a moment to peel her protections away. A smile as he kisses her on the cheek.

"It has been written that the deepest pit of Hell is ice. Cold, unfeeling isolation."

An intake of breath, just too fast. Her gaze wavers, away from his eyes, and she closes her own and tries to turn away. Shelley feels the betraying blush, soft warmth on her face, before it begins.

"I disagree."

Fingertips on her face, the cool against the blush. No recognition of it from Elan. Blue eyes watching her calmly, affection in those pretty eyes. A glint of white teeth, and a soft, pretty smile.

"As is your right."

No argument, nothing to say.

Shelley bites her lip hard but unconsciously as she determinedly looks away. The rain outside the window is getting harder, a soft pattering against the glass.

A loving touch as his hand slid from her face to her shoulder. Fingertips caressed the curve of her neck like the raindrops on the cold window pane. His voice low, a honeyed purr.

"...Shelley..."

The girl shivers, but can't pull away, as she has already leaned as far as the small space will allow. She swallows nervously, panic rising.

"Please..."

A slight tilt of his head as the hand slid down her side to her hip, a gentle caress. A touch of curiosity in his voice. Blue eyes watch her carefully.

"My lady?"

There's a hitch in her breathing now, almost a sob although she's not crying yet. The colour in her cheeks hasn't faded, but she is curled in so defensively.

"...Don't. Stop it."

Fear, though she blushes, and shame that she has.

His brow furrowed slightly. His voice almost confused. Blue eyes glint beautifully. A peal of thunder.
I wish I had an angel
"Here in our night of peace..."
For one moment of love
His hand caressed her side.
I wish I had your angel
"Is this not respite?"
Your Virgin Mary undone
His hand traced circles on her shoulder.
I'm in love with my lust
"Is this not escape from the misery?"
Burning angel wings to dust
His hand lay on her blushing cheek.
I wish I had your angel tonight
"Is this not wanted?"

(Beauty always comes with dark thoughts)

The edge of the windowframe is pressing almost painfully into her shoulder, she's pulling back so hard. Under his hands, she shakes.

"No. No, I- No."

Her voice is as weak as her hands, knotted tightly in folds of her nightdress.

A soft smile as his hand rested on her cheek, the warmth of his body against her. Her scent, pomegranates, and the rain.

"Am I lying then?"

An intensity to his voice as his face hovered so very close to hers. The icy wintergreen of his breath.

"Have you not found comfort, and respite from the loneliness with me before? Have your tears not stained my shoulder while my arms held you? Are you not warm?"

Shelley stares hard down at her feet, stubborning refusing to look up at him. To say no would be a lie, and he knows it, but she will not- she can't agree.

The girl sits in tense silence, letting her red hair fall slowly forward as if its curtain can shut him out.

A delicate touch parts her hair. Pretty blue eyes watch her face. A fond smile.

"Is it dawn yet, Lady Shelley?"

Shelley still doesn't look up, gaze staying on her feet.

But she can still see the dark grey of the rainclouds through the wet windows. Night.

"No."

Fingertips on her chin, a gentle touch as if to raise her head. His blue eyes to meet her green ones.

"Then you are safe from any harm by me."

A pause and then the repetition. A glint of white teeth as he speaks slowly and precisely.

"Safe."

I don't believe you. You were always a liar.

Shelley doesn't move.

One day of peace in however many, what is that? How much more will it hurt, the danger, the betrayal, if she trusts him even for such a short time?

She sits in silence, fear and doubt still twisting, but she can't let it go.

The grave's a fine and private place,

A delicate, chaste kiss at the corner of her mouth. So very gentle. Loving.

But none I think do there embrace.

Her small hands are clenched so hard her nails are hurting her palms. Shelley fights to keep her voice level. Peace.

"I asked you to stop."