YOU ONCE AGAIN WROTE MAGIC - Tumblr Posts
Hello there Can I request a kiss fir Comte ? Thank you so much Have a nice day :D
A/N: Here you are, lovely Julie!
Word Count: 435
A kiss doesn't always end in fire and flames. It doesn’t always end in a body lit up by fireworks, then falling back to earth in a soft rain of fading sparks. Sometimes, a kiss is the careful touch of the ocean’s white foam on the sand or the sound of gentle rain against a window pane. You thrill for the moments when Comte reaches for you, full of golden fire. But the kisses that stay with you the longest are the ones that glow, not burn.
He notices when your mind is gray, clouded with sadness. He always notices and it shifts his priorities. You rise to the top of his mind like warm air, expanding until your happiness fills every corner of his thoughts.
Somehow, he is there. He slides his strong arms around you, pulling you toward the shelter of his body where you bend, leaning into his strength. One hand begins a soothing, rhythmic stroking of your back. You feel the way your breath steadies, the way the tension in your body unspools for him, as if he were reaching in and wrapping it around his hands like Clotho spinning the thread of human fate. His other hand cups your face, warm and tender. He does not demand you meet his gaze. He demands nothing of you.
The first kiss is placed on your forehead, a gesture of protection, of empathy. It can feel more intimate than if you were standing bare before him. It can feel as comforting as sinking into a warm bath. Without so much as a word he assures you that he is there for you. Your bastille against the slings and arrows of an outrageous world. Your oasis in the drought of uncertainty. You accept his kiss and, like a flower to the sun, tilt your face upwards towards him, silently asking for more.
The second kiss is his lips on yours in a gesture so tender it reverberates throughout the chambers of your heart like the deep resonance of church bells. It is the raindrop that clings to the petal. The gleam of sunshine off a hummingbird’s bright feathers. The press of his lips speaks so loudly of his love for you, his devotion to you now and forever. He loves you through the moments of high summer and the moments of darkest winter. He presses this promise against your lips again and again and again until you are breathless with understanding, with acceptance.
He is here, right now.
And he always will be.
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