A soft, resigned smile on his face as he brought a hand to her cheek. His fingers are cold, but not as cold as her face in the wet night. The warm light from a stained glass window behind them-a rose formed of colored panes. A deep sigh. A flash of lightning illuminating the pained look on his face. Droplets of water, like tears, on his face. An almost penitential tone in his voice.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-03-20 08:52 pm (UTC)"Kairian Es'ama Sabach--dema dolor--Shantih, Rasaleb."
The rumbling voice of the thunder obscuring his words, the darkness falling around them once more.