"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Enjoy forums? Start your own community for free.
Learn More · Sign-up for Free
Viewing Single Post From: Na’iidzeeł
The Burned Handler
Member Avatar
I used to be a handler like you, then I turned into a horse.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
He barely even saw them when he peeked at the photo, two silhouettes wreathed in white light with the black of the sky and red of the earth just faintly visible on the edges. Were they going into the light, or coming out of it? It worked either way. Going in or coming out, they were going together and that was the important bit. At least Nadia liked it, and with the light he couldn't see how he'd fought not to flinch or blink.

If it was good enough for her, it worked for him. She was the photographer, and as long as she was happy he'd be all right. She barely left time for her words to enter his ears before turning and running his way, catching him mid-step. With a little exhale, he placed his foot back on the ground and balanced himself while his arms wrapped around her. The world was her nestling her head on the upper part of his chest towards his collarbone, the softness of her body against his, the heat from her skin and her breath, the way her hair tickled him and moved with the air flowing in and out of his lungs.

Somewhere infinitely far away, her camera beeped and went off. He didn't bother to acknowledge it. This could keep going for as long as she wanted to, all night if part of him had its way. School, college, wrestling, photography, what was any of that next to the two of them right now?

The couple in that Woodstock photo she mentioned, tried to emulate, was still together. He remembered her mentioning that once. Would they be, when this photo was as old as the Woodstock photo was now? He hoped so, right now, but who could tell the future? Even though lately any time he dreamed of taking the gold in Tokyo, five years in the future, those dreams included her watching him in the stands.

He kept holding her and didn't bother counting the seconds. When the embrace had gone on for a while, he slowly, tenderly pressed his lips against the top of her head. Just for a second, softly enough it could almost be mistaken for a breeze.

This time he didn't need to ask how the picture turned out.
MurderWeasel getting impatient
 
Hiya, jerk! Please don't post until edits have been completed, as doing so causes confusion/messes up the queue.


Quote:
 
18:48 Ruggawork I have faith in you!
18:48 Ruggawork and your ass!


Quote:
 
16:35 Kilmarnock Maybe Iktor?
16:35 Kilmarnock Maybe Toben.
16:35 Kilmarnock hard to tell until they make out with me.
16:35 *** mib_6brm7d is now known as Irene


Things SOTFers say
Offline Profile Quote Post
Na’iidzeeł · Beyond the Town Border