#BLESS U im weak and she has been wanting to pet his hair for ages and just chill so

[fairybond]

the spring air sends a brief chill up his spine. a shower of flower petals cascade above them, quite a few captured within the fur lining of his vest. the moment is quiet — peaceful. everything they needed. as the sun bathes his skin, he leans back to so kindly invite himself to lay his head upon her lap. a single finger lifting to barely touch her lips, he jests, ‘ — shh. i promise we can be productive in a few minutes. ’

Lisanna shifted herself slightly against the tree supporting her back, eyes closing and lips holding the trace of a smile. She could be doing any number of things, she knew, and yet there was nothing else she wanted to do but sit there and simply be.

There was something utterly irresistible about the sunshine, and about the light breeze of spring. Her favourite time of year. Blooming flowers and an air of freshness and new beginnings. Bright, crisp colours to delight the eyes of everyone. Spring had always seemed to be nature making a brilliant show of itself, a reminder to the world that there was beauty all around and that life would carry on. Nothing was forever, not even bad times, it seemed to say. And that was something she had always held onto.

A slow breath in brought her the light scent of the blossoms around and of the familiar comfort she would always identify as Sting. The soft sound of his movement had her peeking an eye open, amusement pulling up the corner of her mouth as he lay himself down on her. 

A tingle sparked at the brief brush of his finger against her lips, the sensation painting her cheeks with the faintest touch of pink. She laughed, one hand moving to settle lightly atop his chest, to rest and simply feel more connected.

“Somehow, I doubt it~” she said warmly, hand sliding across his chest to begin idly picking petals off him, resting over his heart once she was finished, “But it’s okay, moments like this should be enjoyed. It’s productive enough for me.”

With her other hand, she began to stroke his hair, fingers gently combing through honey blond locks. Warmth, entirely unrelated to the sun that soaked them, swelled in her chest, and something inside her relaxed. 

She looked down at Sting for a few, lingering moments as she continued to pet his hair, expression soft and heart grateful for the peaceful moment and the sight of him seeming more free. Her fingertips traced the bridge of his nose, giving a gentle and playful bop to the end, before resuming the delicate shifting through his hair as she closed her eyes again.

“We should do this more often, don’t you think?”