#i wish I had the wherewithal to look into this on my own but I’ll keep tracking going forward.

[chickawah23]

Is someone keeping track of the lyrics Taylor chooses to scream during her surprise song sets?

“As I said in my letters, now that I know better I will never lose my baby again” - FOTS

“You know there’s many different ways that you can kill the one you love. The slowest way is never loving them enough.” - High Infidelity

[cosmos-coma]

More Geralt content PLEASEE 😭

Something angsty with a happy ending maybe

Savior

A/N: I'm not really sure if this is the angst you had in mind but this idea has been bouncing around my head for a few days now.

Pairing: Geralt X Reader

Words: 767

Warning: blood and violence (canon level), unedited

___________________

Your mind was woozy and spinning around the dimly lit room. Your tongue tasted metallic and vile as blood coated your tongue. 

“I won't say anything…” You repeated, your head lolling forward as you tried desperately to focus on the face in front of you. 

A few weeks ago you had come into an extremely valuable journal belonging to a long-gone member of the school of the Bear. It detailed the entire process and materials on how to turn someone into a witcher. Everyone had thought that knowledge had disappeared along with most of the witchers after the sieges, but it seems that one had the wherewithal to write it all down beforehand. 

You knew that none of the wolves supported making any more witchers, their own childhoods being proof enough of how shitty it was, but you thought it best to have in case anything catastrophic were to happen.

“You’re a bad liar. I know you found it, I just need to know where you're keeping it hidden…” He wiped the blood from his knuckles and tightened the leather straps that held you affixed to the chair. “You’re making this far harder than it needs to be…”

“You’re making it harder than it needs to be..” you tried to throw back at him, but between your swollen black eye and the concussion you're 90% sure you had some of it came out slurred and directed about 6 inches too far to the left. 

“I think you’re all done here.” A new voice came, low and familiar, and as you forced your good eye fully open you saw the familiar flash of white hair and gold eyes. 

“Geralt…” you sighed in relief. As you looked over him you saw his stance rigid with pressurized anger and something dark in those Yellow cat eyes that stirred something deep inside you. 

You let your eyes close as your Witcher rushed towards your captor, the thuds of fists against flesh echoing about the small stone room. “Geralt..?” you called after a minute, once the noises all stopped. 

“I’ve got you now, bookworm… I knew we shouldn’t have brought that journal around in the open.” came his soothing voice not far from your face. The leather straps came away from your wrists and ankles and calloused fingers gently touched your cheek. 

Geralt gently touched your split lip and busted cheek, frowning when you winced away from his caring touch. They had done so much to you and all because he had left you alone despite his better judgment.

“Come on, I’ll get you back to the Inn and get you cleaned up, and then we can have a nice dinner on me, okay? They won’t bother you again...” His words melted into you like honey and made your body instantly soften and relax. His arms wrapped around your waist to keep you upright as you raised to your feet, slightly wobbly. 

Your eye peeked open as you walked out with Geralt, catching the bloody lump of flesh that was now curled up on the floor. They might not have been dead, but you're sure they wished they were. Serves them right. 

You didn’t register most of the trip back to the inn, but you did register the sweet gentle embrace of the bed as Geralt laid you back against the blankets. The room was quiet between the two of you as he took care of you with the gentlest touch you had ever felt from him. You just caught the small smile that crossed his face as you leaned into the cold cloth he held against your bruised eye. 

“I’m proud of you, you know…” He mused quietly.

“What for? I got taken and beaten like a rookie…” 

He laughed softly, “You forget you are a rookie, sweetheart,” he said only half sarcastically, “No. It’s because I saw the scratches and bruises on that guy that took you. You fought back well- we just have a few things to work on for next time.” 

You winced as your split lip stretched into a small smile, but you couldn't help the way your witcher lit you up. “You’re a big softie, Witcher… I globe you so much..” 

He snorted and shook his head as he brushed your hair out of your face. “ Did you mean ‘love’ perchance?” 

“You mean love…” you half laughed, half grumbled as you pulled his hand over your eyes to cover the aching light that shined in your eyes. 

“Okay, I think that’s the concussion talking, sweetheart. But I ‘globe’ you too.” He said with a ridiculous grin.

_______________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @dark-academia-slut @madamemelancholysstuff

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

[libidomechanica]

What, conscious Hand folly

A kimo sequence

               I

He had never on the serious. Her owne vertue hath no stain of Moore. What, conscious Hand folly.

               II

In sight could not. Called more: a thousand from June the origin her bloud friend. In pages the door.

               III

Sad case, and still these were sun and eek a frere wol fall, look on thy foot, the open ground. Their shoes.

               IV

To love, most stranger’s mind. To thought for, baith kisse thee, sweetness to embrac’d. Hyena foemen’s wrong.

               V

Load an oath desire. Who knew them spitously broke my hair blown about it. A belt of Time.

               VI

And Mars yaf me a mission. See fierce the woman close—From thee will anxious, and as his glory.

               VII

Yet mine I knew his body feels, and care, each other’s dart. Is faith, ye’re not melted downe dyd lye.

               VIII

And in a clothd with an eare. And now he’s glad to have TWO of fire. You see a kiss me, be love.

               IX

In equal. And tuff, amygdaloid and tempts of laughing lightnings quickly the crescent promise.

               X

And what now disjoin, whatever. Then in mail one day I mette of God and did raise tomatoes.

               XI

He puzzled; Julia was supernatural conduct by the tapers why didst arise—arise!

               XII

And after me with kindling brain, her grandson armed, o eyes, the north, in the misery! The same.

               XIII

My heart. On which after than myn housbondes, quod she, in patient forced to build the holy days.

               XIV

Thy worst of a make, then would vex, and let thee. Know the waters of love, my heart sae fu’ o’ wae!

               XV

If in my life might kiss all, nor pale enchantment toil and great. While and Julia’s eyes shall leisure!

               XVI

Not easy chearful of ragerye, the palsied hands. Soon as kindred birthday part, which makes no stars.

               XVII

He liked what’s my master reader will of men, she made his gravest citizen see! How would kill?

               XVIII

For Adonais; till to home winter and pass the Lord’s guilt confounded ice. All her mind is this?

               XIX

Away, wherewith both include those who her father, as we knowe what it a monster of six.

               XX

Ill affrontery, is more in green; and Parties, comply. For Nisus’ injur’d Hair did his hoold.

               XXI

She flesh and wherewith dew and devotion I would be no weltring Duncan, Nelson was. Cheek!

               XXII

At length into closet, of Donna Inez, to die so, and there! Intend, some huge rondure not.

               XXIII

Thou shalt obey, and for shame o’t. Man could utter’d the Noon of stormy mist; so swept down too.

               XXIV

Whan my bonie Jean. He story, the silver Bound, The joys refined, drag on Love’s first, that Desire!

               XXV

And then, but decorous alters hurt you. He will be my lovers, and fair; and would come your fate.

               XXVI

At first the floods no hymn whose articles depend on the most difference; Give me thus? To tinder.

               XXVII

Or which serve a knight, so warm? Devil’s so very to request, of fruitful in the Head. We meet.

               XXVIII

Plunge that comes: then yellow prest, than their shoes. There unstrung unable to the street, with endless Sky.

               XXIX

The heard; and and sorrow and dare to come, she said, My cousin Amy, speak plain English, many?

               XXX

If thy unworthy of youth not, she smile thine, or elles hadde enchantment to know it. Say nay!

               XXXI

Yet tikleth me birafte his were King Victorious Day. And help me God, I will I was this?

               XXXII

Which glorious flow, and desolate, she meads; wherefore? Once more I hear himself, into bed.

               XXXIII

No more—no more, one haukes lure. Since this Morning-tide, I only son with heavy—as a test.

               XXXIV

Had to stir? A globe, years, and looked at hoom as dropped to the sea. Where the sun’s domain and his head.

               XXXV

The ages, to goon and saw his warm, unnerved his cottage bench; an auld brass will bite. Creatures out.

               XXXVI

But ta’en by this only, call all the though my heart of man. And with grief- worn heart none lovely signs.

               XXXVII

And played with all the longinge. Every different Nations, keep your very same column; date, Falmouth.

               XXXVIII

I wish these, now blithe, now let them. The pull; fair Annie’s bark our glory fight, propped my hand could not.

               XXXIX

The clean, i’ll cross vibes. Faire, and ye sal gae and sang sae merry comrades, or call our own in wild!

               XL

Different from me; and you see the smother. If you’d best hoom; I have chose falls, where burnish’d to deck.

               XLI

Dare repeatedly, in truth alit, and hung heaps, she cold, caress. Numb were blow back toward casting.

               XLII

’ And dwellen in his dotage that hapless clay, they faint on his head might he. My horse we gain’d wing.

               XLIII

Truth you aught it may be mortal door I lay as wel of those loss—of the grave. Full of delight.

               XLIV

Of his nycetee. That a suit mighty titles, fal’n from the minds is o’er the place—but Verbum sat.

               XLV

It changes on the sea. Ye, woltow so got into gold in mourn she says god helped together.

               XLVI

Of horsemen. He had lost in vapours to call its sustained, and keep his home. Then stars. ’Re alike.

               XLVII

Rent talents find the Fates himself and speak. Two distance be dried his own time of warm and his feats.

               XLVIII

She might not wear your tied heart was tolde han my knee desired. The head, i’ll love her purchaser!

               XLIX

I leafe is the many-living him with tufts and refrain. Her fav’rite Lock! That froaths beloved!

               L

” Thus was he were now determined, which flies. Making lay, who found a ruin, with its self and grey.

               LI

Are quite agree: what to say! Life bloud congeal’d from the bad his obscure; he whole of common-place.

               LII

Torture not. And shook the Potter’s windows thre, that froaths below, set thee to tell me of the Hair.

               LIII

In an aged the Nymph in early pull him any mercy deere? Till time? He died, and the royallie.

               LIV

Is lyk a catering arms, he is o’er he went. Declining Love as I glide; that’s like the grave.

               LV

But Julia, who had a bonny son to understand for Corks. By the falwes, and keep his Heart?

               LVI

Ah wanton maids, in this I knew that Jhesu short, she saith. And is through the best he like the Sphere!

               LVII

Him in her Body chanced to go. His relinquisitions, not what’s out of tears and Despair.

               LVIII

Spirit, cared nooks, which men delight. They dances, by what art can find one of us thyn, pardee!

               LIX

Here ends the wind. The wine of Thy mother as they danced Albano’s boy, him up, it could be had.

               LX

Each shell is o’er a light were swarms that held it seemed very set, he ceased the green. They took you years.

               LXI

His man, wi’ an auld wife. Is like. They could not head, and do hear the dead. Actually marry. Day.

               LXII

So do our meant to given the ground, while, may seem so mean enough. Call you are forgotten years.

               LXIII

The door and still lessoned so, satisfied of thunder. Her Joy in girth, there’s beauty’s case.

               LXIV

To follow: a shouting, is much linen band. But true nobility of blood less dear delight.

               LXV

For reputations gives us ourselves where you hear homely wife. And al swich withal, they died.

               LXVI

Whatever at they found, I said, No, no. At which leans sinistered to catch the sacrifice.

               LXVII

Began the Snuff-boxes and palms. And straggled the Lock; ariel himself from an humble broom.

               LXVIII

But the shiver’d o’erstep their sockets, with true-heroics strain, draw near the thorn? How Vlster like thee!

               LXIX

Who my Childless spotted not. Big heart thought us, bats when he’s peevish and haste, and but to me.

               LXX

Date, their treasur’d though her yesterday. His refulgent Queen’s deep emotions glowing red, the sky.

               LXXI

Be within her son, and thought, and sit in meaning, by harbour shelf. When Husbandships go on so?

               LXXII

—Need I sing, which are my heart’s disgrace you canst not, like Tom Waits. Although quite by many danger.

               LXXIII

For, God it with an Hidalgo! In the Frere, I think I pick’d and flits are the decoys, they give?

               LXXIV

Must noble the abode wherefore tame leopards. The parted to stop. Artist, the walked to say.

               LXXV

I have a wyf in chase the Gnome! Of condition, The lovely colours the monks preferrė bigamye?

               LXXVI

Once, the sea of life; they be well-a-days is spring reverted be God, that thou not we feed?

               LXXVII

He stood like besmear’d with many scorn, good society is but if they loue. Eternal are.

               LXXVIII

As thou would: and when in the should come as winter, who dislike cancer and brow. The two ages.

               LXXIX

And speak for his gore, hey both for my Jean. And Juan the sea what I felt and the Samaritan?

               LXXX

He seemed to spill the doubt not thro’ mystic cares. Within our mind many a tiptoe, amorous?

               LXXXI

And burn your Eye, where you go. Beauty morn as the rosy heigh ho, how you cry. But Julia Fire!

               LXXXII

Thus dance the wors that cruel are. Perhaps that fooled. Waking on this same delights, white Boy is a gift.

               LXXXIII

To draw from; but for my neighb’ring Textures in: let not make a gentle Bells such, indeed the truth!

               LXXXIV

Of other melody, war piled on the sweet a flowers than raise you some half with me as I.

               LXXXV

Of garden, as mostly mine; I loathe through the Madeira to be wedded fyve! Me as is me!

               LXXXVI

Clay to raised to light.—Ah, Gossip led when she ever-silent was sloping there! And chance spray, St.

               LXXXVII

That are let us range eyes out. Til trewe wyf, do as the world of your labour’d himself: you are!

               LXXXVIII

I tell us, are extremes, I trowe, twenty- five yards from yonder, and is it thus it no synne!

               LXXXIX

As by constant to drink, a spider in what touch of heaven, and there. Meet and chastitee no cure.

[writings-of-dumpy]

Everybody Talks: George Weasley Smut

A/N: Yes, here it is--George Weasley smut. 18+ only. Warnings: unprotected sex and language

Summary: Based on the song “Everybody Talks” by Neon Trees. George is called a player often, but when Y/N overhears that her boyfriend slept with someone else, he has to make her see that everybody talks, but it doesn’t matter.

Fred and George were always the most sought-after pair in Gryffindor house, and Y/N was not immune to that. She often found herself looking at the boys in her year as she got older, and she couldn’t help but gain a small crush on one Weasley in particular. The twins had subtle differences about them that sometimes Y/N thought only she could pick up on. She could hear her fellow housemates talk about Fred and George as a single unit, which made her slightly uncomfortable knowing that they were different people even though they often weren’t referred to that way.

They had a reputation, too. Y/N could barely go two days without hearing about George’s latest sexcapade from a gushing girl in the Great Hall. She couldn’t lie to herself, it stung slightly. She felt like she was the only one George hadn’t paid mind to even though she paid him plenty of mind. He lived in her thoughts almost always.

As luck would have it, at the beginning of their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, she would be lucky enough to finally have the one she’d been crushing on sit next to her in herbology. Little did she know that George had his eye on her for quite some time now and he had practically begged professor Sprout to assign seats with him next to Y/N.

He had noticed that in the brief interactions, Y/N would always address them correctly. He didn’t know how she could tell them apart when their own mother sometimes couldn’t. He didn’t blame his wonderful mum, they were identical after all. But as for the students and even teachers at Hogwarts, they were almost never right when they approached the twins. Throughout the years, they had just been lumped together as the Weasley Twins. George didn’t resent it, though, he just found it annoying sometimes. He felt bad for feeling bad, though, because he and Fred were often together and shared similar interests. But then, when Y/N called him by his name for the first time, he knew she was different from the rest of the school. They were fifteen at the time, and George had craved her attention ever since. He hadn’t had the wherewithal to go with her to the Yule Ball because he was asked by a girl in Gryffindor who he didn’t know the name of. That was the other thing about George—he didn’t like to disappoint. He was a people pleaser and he didn’t want to make this girl sad because she seemed so incredibly nervous to even ask him that he couldn’t help but say yes to her.

But now, George finally had a chance with Y/N and he didn’t want to mess that up. He sat next to her and smiled at her with a charming look in his eye.

“Hello there, Y/N,” he said. She smiled at him.

“Hi George, good to see you,” she said to him with pink cheeks. The pair became fast friends and George wished he hadn’t waited so long to talk to her. It was clear that they both enjoyed a good joke and had a similar sense of what that consisted of. After herbology, he decided to shoot his shot with her.

“I know we’re not super close friends or anything, but I’d like to invite you to drinks at The Three Broomsticks with me and the rest of the team after the match on Friday?” he asked her with a shy smile. “As my date?”

Y/N blushed and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll meet you after. And I’ll cheer for you, of course.”

George felt satisfied with the answer and he beamed all the way to his next class and throughout the rest of the day. After these past couple years of crushing on her, he finally had the chance to make her his.

Y/N went to the Quidditch match in high spirits. She had heard all week that various girls were asked to the party by George, and she hoped that they were just fictitious because she longed to be the only one George was after. She’d find out soon enough, though, because George had wanted to meet her in the courtyard by the pathway to Hogsmeade after the match. After the match she made her way there and found that she and Hermione were the only ones in that area. She smiled and waved at Y/N politely.

Y/N waved back and smiled. She knew those rumors were false, and she said to herself then that she couldn’t be bothered by the rumors girls spread about George. They waited for about three minutes before Y/N saw a familiar head of ginger hair approach her with a goofy grin on his face.

“Hello, love, are you excited?” he asked, and Y/N’s stomach turned in the most pleasant way possible. She smiled and nodded. George offered his arm to her and she took it with a wide grin. It was nice to walk and talk with George. Y/N asked him about Quidditch rules as she had only attended the matches when her house was playing, and George’s face lit up when he talked about the sport. He made several hand gestures as he explained the game and his role in it as Beater, but his strong arm never let go of her. Y/N hung on his every word and she almost didn’t realize that they were almost to The Three Broomsticks at this point.

“Sounds like you’re an expert on the game, Georgie,” Y/N said with a grin. George’s face flushed at the nickname and he smiled ear to ear.

“Thanks, love. I do enjoy it, so I get a bit carried away,” he explained and reached for the door to open it for her.

“I like it when you get carried away. It’s nice to listen to people talk about the things they’re passionate about,” Y/N said and walked into the pub with a nod of thanks to him. When they were both inside, Y/N scanned the room and found a large table filled with the Gryffindor team and a few others that she didn’t recognize, who she assumed were friends or significant others.

“Hey, everyone,” George greeted. Fred’s eyes went wide in delight upon seeing his brother and Y/N on his arm.

“Well, look who’s finally got a date,” Fred said and took a sip of his butterbeer, and George shot him a look. Y/N smiled and waved to the team.

“Congratulations, guys. It was really fun to watch,” Y/N said to the team and they all smiled at her and raised a glass. George let her sit and he took his place next to her and Y/N felt his arm wrap around her shoulders, which sent butterflies to her middle.

After a few rounds of butterbeer, the table dispersed as the team expressed their exhaustion. George helped Y/N up and she blushed and thanked him. Throughout the night she had felt his thumb gently rubbing the outside of her arm and each time he made the sweet gesture, she felt more confident in being around him and she was sure her cheeks were pink most of the night.

“Did you have fun?” Y/N asked him once they were alone and walking through the corridors towards Y/N’s house common room.

“I enjoyed every minute with you. I hope you feel the same,” George said in a voice smoother and sweeter than honey.

Y/N blushed deeper and nodded. “It was a lovely time.” When they reached her common room entrance, George turned her to him and stood close to her.

“I have a small confession to make, love,” George said in a low voice.

Y/N’s breath was caught in her lungs and her heart pounded. “Oh?”

“I happen to fancy you quite a bit… And if you’d like, I want to take you out more, but just the two of us… exclusively, if you get my drift…” George clarified to Y/N with rosy cheeks and a small smile.

Y/N was dumbfounded. She couldn’t believe that he felt that way about her. She smiled and nodded. “You want me to be your girlfriend?”

George nodded. “If you’ll have me.”

Y/N was ecstatic and nodded her head. “I would like that very much. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, so you better be a good one, Weasley,” she teased.

George laughed and stepped closer to her with a grin. “Wouldn’t dream of being anything but, Y/L/N.”

The pair laughed and even though they were saying goodbye, neither made the move to do so. Y/N felt George inching closer to her as his hand smoothed over her waist. Y/N’s smile turned to a bitten lower lip as George’s face closed in on hers. She could feel the warmth from his cheeks radiate off of him and on to her.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked in a whisper. Y/N nodded and their lips met with gentle desire. The kiss was more than a peck, but as sweet and simple as one. As it went on, their growing feelings drove them to a more heated moment. George supported her against him, and as the moment got more intense, he pinned her against the wall. When they broke away for air, they looked at each other for a second and laughed in glee at the euphoria they felt, but noticed the portraits giving them judgmental looks.

“Erm… I’ll see you tomorrow?” George offered and backed himself away from Y/N. She nodded and smiled with swollen lips. It was when she entered her common room that George noticed his lips aching and he felt them swell a bit.

As the year went on, George and Y/N became closer and closer and their love blossomed, and all was bliss... or so Y/N thought. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew that everybody talked about her and George. Rumors spewed that they had broken up at least once a week, but all of them were crushed when George got wind of them and made a scene of kissing Y/N deeply in the middle of the hallway.

“Mister Weasley, that’s inappropriate,” McGonagall would say and George would wink and smile at Y/N as she headed to class. Y/N would love it when that happened, truly, because it reassured what she already knew to be true: George only had eyes for her.

But one day towards their graduation date, Y/N overheard a Slytherin girl gushing about how she and George had hooked up the night prior. The gaggle of girls around her demanded explicit details, and she provided them. Y/N shot the group a dirty and annoyed look, and the storyteller shrugged and sent back a sickeningly smug look.

Y/N left the room and immediately searched for George. Everybody talks, but not like this. Y/N knew that George had a reputation for being a player, but she had never heard such explicit details. She felt hurt and betrayed, and she didn’t want to believe it.

“Either let me in or send George Weasley out, please,” she said to the Fat Lady.

“Trouble, dear?” the portrait asked in a concerned tone.

“Just… I just need to talk to George,” Y/N said becoming more worried by the second.

“About what, my dear?” George’s voice said from behind Y/N. She turned and his face dropped.

“Come on, let’s go in…” he said and lead her through to the common room. Y/N was lucky that everyone cleared out once the pair walked into the room because the conversation they were about to have was going to be one that Y/N classified in her mind as highly private.

“What happened, my love?” George asked her with concern in his voice and his hands touching her elbows as her arms were crossed. He looked deep into her eyes and Y/N knew she was being foolish. George had never given her any reason to believe he was being unfaithful or that he ever wanted anyone else, but here she was feeling hurt over what she had overheard.

“I feel so stupid, but I just… I feel like I have to hear it from you,” Y/N said. “It’s horrible, I know, and I’m so sorry…”

George furrowed his brows. “What are they saying about me now?”

“That you and Justine hooked up last night. She just had so much detail, it was hard to shut her down… It made me think that maybe it was true, but…” Y/N said and finished her sentence with a shake of her head.

“I never thought I’d see the day when their words would get in the way…” George said in disbelief. Y/N looked at him with worry. George placed a hand on her face and wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Are you mad?” Y/N asked.

George shook his head. “No… I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you. It just means I have to show you how I really feel about you, dear…”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, but her confusion ceased when George attached his mouth to hers with fervor. He had never kissed her like this before. Y/N’s chest heaved with every breath she took and her heart pounded in her chest. She felt his hands run from her cheek to gripping the back of her head as he kissed her feverishly. His lips dragged along her cheek to give her jaw and ear deep and sometimes wet kisses.

“See them talk after this,” George muttered. His lips latched onto Y/N’s neck and she felt his tongue caress her throat, then the small pain of his teeth latching on and sucking the flesh into his mouth. She gasped aloud and George pulled her closer and bit and sucked harder at her neck. Y/N thought about how purple and red the bruise would be when she looked at it later. For now, though, it felt too good to be true. The words Justine had used to describe George’s love bites were not only inaccurate but not even a shadow of the magnitude of care he took into placing it.

“Only one for me, see?” George whispered into Y/N’s ear once he had been sated with the depth of purple he had made on her neck. Y/N looked at him with starry eyes and George smirked.

“Come on,” he said and gripped her hand. The two left the common room and George purposefully held onto her tightly as he passed boys and girls alike. When they finally reached an empty hallway, a door suddenly appeared on a blank wall to the left of them.

“Hogwarts, you never disappoint,” he said with a grin. He opened the door for a very confused Y/N. She eyed him with suspicion and walked in to find a simple room with a fireplace, a bathroom, and rather large bed with a canopy. The window showed a wonderful view of the Black Lake and Y/N looked and saw students milling about.

“How did you know about this place?” Y/N asked.

“It’s called the Room of Requirement. Fred and I found it a couple years ago and he likes to take girls here, so I figured I’d give it a shot,” George said with a wink.

“So it’s like a shagging room? No offense, but I absolutely do not want to fuck on a bed your brother has done it in,” Y/N said aghast.

George laughed and wrapped his arms around Y/N. “The room makes it different every time, and perfectly tailored to those who need it.”

Y/N felt better about that reassurance and relaxed a bit in his embrace.

“Now where were we, my love?” George said with a devilish smirk and pulled Y/N closer to the point where she could feel his crotch growing and hardening. She blushed and licked her lips before initiating a deep and passionate kiss. He once more pressed her against the wall in a frantic kiss and she quieted a moan.

“No need for that, my dear. Nobody can hear you in here. But I can and I want to hear you,” George whispered in her ear and sent a chill down her spine. Y/N felt his hands move to her hips and his fingers danced their way to the skin under her shirt. She pressed her hips against him as a signal to continue his movements and George let his hands dance up her shirt. His long and slender fingers made quick work of removing her torso of the clothes she wore. Y/N blushed a deep red and made her way to kiss him more to avoid his lustful gaze, but he moved too quickly for her and attached his lips to her breast. He made quick work of marking the area with his teeth and lips.

Y/N felt vulnerable and tugged at his shirt to take it off to even the odds. George caught the hint and completely removed the garment and tossed it aside next to where Y/N’s had landed. George blushed and pulled her towards the bed, where their mouths found each other once more and he sat her on the bed while he remained standing to remove his trousers and briefs. Y/N felt his lips leave hers as he struggled with shaky hands to undo the buckle of his belt. Y/N smiled then got to her knees and helped him remove the constricting fabric. He freed his penis from the tight hold of his briefs and Y/N licked her lips. George helped her to her feet and laid her back on the soft bed. He removed her panties and crawled over her with a hungry look in his eyes. His pupils were blown and his mouth hung agape as he visually drank her in. Y/N felt insecure under his gaze and felt her body couldn’t compare to the greatness his possessed. He wasn’t all muscle, but he was built well with an athlete’s muscles. She made an attempt to shy away from him, but he locked their fingers together above her head and her eyes were met with his.

“You never have to hide from me. I love all of you. Every single piece,” he declared to her. She smiled and kissed his lips sweetly.

George was nothing but generous in bed. Y/N wasn’t sure how much experience he had, but it didn’t matter because his movements made it clear to her that she was his and he was hers, completely and absolutely. He moved within her with purpose and each time Y/N moaned, he repeated the movement until he could get her to feeling that way once more.

“Feeling good, love?” he asked frequently in a low voice. Y/N would sometimes nod, but sometimes all she could answer with was a moan of pleasure. George grinned when she displayed such pliancy and responsiveness to his touch. Y/N did her best to help him feel good, too and moved her hips along with his. He threw his head back and let out a moan that had they not been in an invisible and sound-proof room, the entire tower would have heard. Y/N trembled at the sound he emitted and let out a small whimper as her climax neared.

“George, please,” she moaned. George smiled at her with love in his eyes. He kissed her lips deeply and quickened his pace within her and buried his head in the crook of her neck.

“Y/N, please… Love, I’m…” he moaned in her ear.

After several moments of bliss, and the only sounds that Y/N could hear were George’s confessions of love and praises in her ear that she echoed into his, she felt George still and tense as she concluded he had finished. Y/N smiled and blushed that she could bring him to completion like that. He sat up and pulled out of her with a questioning look.

“Did you..?” he asked. Y/N bit her lip and averted her gaze while trying to avoid the question. “That won’t do at all.”

Before Y/N could protest, his fingers made quick work of finding her clitoris and Y/N jumped in surprise. He rubbed slow circles at first, then as Y/N became more worked up, he sped up his pace and soon Y/N was becoming undone in front of him. She felt herself writhe uncontrollably and cry out his name as she was washed in pleasure. George held her through it and smiled sweetly down at her. He kissed her gently along her shoulder, then her neck, then her cheek, and landed on her lips.

“Let them talk, but you needed to know that you’re the only one for me,” George said to Y/N, who smiled and laughed.

[chaotic-emo-child]

Panicked Heart

SPOILER WARNING!!!!

This contains spoilers for the current event in IkeSen: Love and Secrets in War - Mitsuhide's Premium ending.

This is my own spin off of the events that happen after the premium, concerning Motonari and my OC, Mai.

TW: Cursing - It's Mai, she's never not cursing. Blood, Game typical violence, Mentions of stabbing, Wounds

Notes: Game MC's Name is Aimi because I'm not about to have two Mai's in this story. Hahahaha

Summary: After the clash between Motonari and Mitsuhide, Mai searches the woods, seeking the pirate captain.

_________________________________________________________

The dark tunnel stretched on for an eternity, there was no light, the muffled screams and pounding of her heartbeat the only sounds echoing in her ears. It was difficult to tell if the agonizing cries wrenched from tortured lips were those of her past or the moans of the injured fighting for their lives not far away on the battlefield. A tree root tripping rushed feet pulled Mai out of the foggy haze of panicked mind, the tunnel disappearing back into the emerald foliage of the forest.

Pausing to catch her breath and take stock of where she was, the young lass tried to reconcile the harsh reality of the Warring States period with what her frantic heart was screaming.

It didn’t matter that Motonari was their enemy. It didn’t matter that Mitsuhide was obeying Lord Nobunaga’s orders, or protecting the rest of them. None of that mattered. None of that stopped the gut-wrenching fear or blinding fury from sparking through Mai as she watched in horror as Mitsuhide’s blade sunk into Motonari’s stomach.

She didn’t know how long she waited for everyone to leave the area. It was all a blur as Mitsuhide headed back to the battlefield while Aimi and the others left to search for a place of safety. Mai didn’t even remember moving off in the direction that Motonari had ridden, a blind, desperate instinct kicking in and demanding that she find him.

A low knicker from some brush not far away drew her attention. With tentative steps, she moved toward the sound, panic dying down to allow for reason and a clearer head to take command. Mai pushed through the dense underbrush to find a small clearing, the man she sought sitting slouched against a large tree trunk, pristine white gloves stained red as he attempted to staunch the bleeding. His horse stood not far off, keeping guard.

“You’re a fuckin’ moronic idiot! You know that?” Mai scolded as she charged through the last of thicket and underbrush, paying no mind as thorns and small branches snagged her clothes and flesh, focused solely on the injured man.

Crimson eyes widened as they beheld the angry woman before them. A look of brief shock crossed his features before Motonari relaxed against the tree, lips cracking into an arrogant smirk.

“Ya here to finish me off, M’lady?”

“Don’t even fucking joke like that,” she snarled, kneeling beside him as she searched the contents of her satchel. Thank the gods she had the wherewithal to shove a few medical supplies into it when the camp had been attacked. “You die on me, and I’ll personally make the fucking trip into hell to bring you back so I can kill your sorry ass myself!”

“Ha...ugh..!” he winced, the laugh cut short from the pain. “...Ya full of contradictions there.”

She didn’t answer the jab, too focused on getting all the items ready. Damn him for making her worry and fret like this, sending her heart rate into the stratosphere. If he wasn’t injured already, she’d punch him for making her agonize so. Her meager supplies gathered, Mai reached over to pull his shirt up and assess the damage.

“Don’t!” he barked, pulling away, gloved hand protecting his injury from her touch.

Small hand hesitated, fisting closed as molten nutmeg eyes glared up at him. No. No. Fucking no! He was not about to pull this bullshit on her. Any other day, Mai would honor his wish not to be touched. Any. Other. Day. But, not this day. Not when he could die. Too many people had already died on her, he would not be another one.

Jaw set, teeth grinding, she growled, “Mori Motonari, you will let me look at it, or so help me I will cold-conk you so I can work without protest.”

Moments dragged out as the duo engaged in a silent battle of wills. It was hard to tell what went on behind the hardened expression of the pirate captain, but, eventually, he grunted, acquiescing to her demands. A glimmer of pride and admiration glinted in eyes the color of freshly spilled blood as gloved hand moved with slow hesitation, revealing the nasty wound.

Blood had soaked into the kimono and outer vest, deep crimson and spotted browns made it difficult to assess the damage, and he had too many layers to try and remove one at a time. Sunlight glinted off steel as Mai drew her kaiken (something she had taken to carrying recently), and with swift motion cut away at the torn fabric, exposing the puncture.

“If ya wanted to get me shirtless, I’m sure there’s a bett’r way of doin’ it than waitn’ fer me to git stabbed.”

“Shut up.”

Oh, she was definitely going to punch him in his smug ass face if he didn’t stop. How he remained calm with a literal hole in his stomach while she fought to keep nervous hands from shaking, was beyond her. With a silent promise that she’d beat him up later, she set to work.

Practiced hands wiped away the excess blood, making clear the extent of damage. There were no signs of evisceration (thank the gods), and it seemed that the blade had not sliced far into the abdomen, lessening the chance of any serious damage to the organs or excess bleeding internally. Calmed at the promising signs, Mai worked to clean and staunch what blood was still flowing.

“Tell me, m’lady,” Motonari’s inquisitive voice broke through her concentration. “What are ya doin’ all the way out here?”

“Hideyoshi made a big stink about Aimi coming to the battlefield alone so I was drafted to be her 'travel companion’,” finished with the last of the bandaging, Mai rocked back onto her heels, wiping blood covered hands along her hakama. “I get to be the fuckin’ third wheel with those two thanks to the mother hen.”

“That’s not what I meant. What’r ya doin’ out here with the enemy commander, tendin’ t’ his wounds?”

Mai felt his keen gaze studying her profile as she tried to hide the rising blush. She could guess as to ‘why’. Why she risked exposure to her allies in aiding their enemy, in helping Motonari. Why her heart raced when he was near. Why her thoughts were full of him in the quiet, private moments of her day. She had a very good guess as to why; that did not mean that she was ready to admit what it meant, however--to herself, muchless him.

“Cap’n! Cap’n, ya out here?”

The familiar voice of Hiroyoshi carried through the woods, and Mai sighed with relief that help was near. It didn’t take long for Motonari’s trusted vassal to rig up a stretcher for his lord (that man came prepared for anything). With the injured captain comfortably situated on the litter, extra bandages wrapped along the stab wound, Hiroyoshi bowed low to Mai.

“Thank you, Princess, for looking after my lord.”

“Hiroyoshi, don’t go bowin’ to the enemy,” Motonari complained, his mood seeming to have worsened after learning about their inevitable defeat.

Mai rolled her eyes, as the two shared a look, ignoring the grumblings coming from the invalid. She wished to go along, to ensure that everything would heal and that there would be no complications, but… “I have to go. Everyone will start to worry if I don’t return soon.”

Moving to check on the wrappings one last time, she flashed Motonari her signature, cheshire smile before turning away with a wave.

“I’ll be seein’ ya around, Pirate.”

[captainkurosolaire]

Heavy Ammunition

Undone from defeat the Ser now turned into a nightmarish knight of a chipped skull. Began moving his lower-extremities. All them prone and wheezing or unconscious. Silv’a stayed above. Like he always was anyway in his viewing beliefs. Glowering with resentment at Judas. Animosity laid with that one the most of all. If his older age and wisdom didn’t act on intuition his plan would all be foiled. By the most plain of the lot. Execution was being readied to be served up as the thawed bone’s arm began skeletal functioning between.

“Shalt have to disagree with you most unpleasantly. O’ dread, I beseech you to meet red-comet. Often fate can sting like a piercing hornet.” A lute played in string. Before a rocketing crimson-lance of bottom hilt flashfire swept over and sent the puppeted knight being attached and stuck to the wall from impalement. With such a terrifying might.

An obnoxious laughter of jolly a battle-thirstier. As a Roe came inbound following suit with thuds of heaviness. “It’s so difficult to watch my strength within this dinky little hole.” Even though the chamber’s were massive the building wouldn’t be able to contest with his fire which was unfortunately too risky to use with allies. The last squadron of the Crew showed up in a pair five. A lalafell brought in a beach chair and propped it down and sat down just drinking her juice. Now the reinforced firepower had arrived. Facepalming while enthusiastically screaming Silv’a “Really more?!!?! They just keep lining up to die!” Irritation was demonically being infused as his undoing. This Band of Gold was truly an annoying bunch. One falls another to take front and center. It actually benefited them that they were all distant apart and didn’t all arrive at once. The louder gallant voice of Roe heartily broke a shout, “Kid ya’ alive?” Captain mumbled between the floor. Gark quipped, “Kay.” He'd take that as enough. A viera hopped with a spiritedly step before leaping over and coming between the duo of Noble and Captain. “Sorry we’re late. Me-Me wanted a detour, she insisted… You know how it goes.” She bubbly said. The Lalafell kept slurping on her straw with the continent with a massive slurpee. That terrifying um, ‘little’ menace was quite possibly the most fearsome of all the mates. Don’t refer to her by any tiny stature or treat her as such. Captain just murmured <Mmm-hmm> trying to remind, of mortally bleeding out over here and in agony. The short Viera huffed her puffy cheeks before recognizing what she needed to do and began grabbing the duo by the wrists to drag into a corner away from the center again and get into obstruction. “I’ll have to decline you. Those sinners haven’t suffered enough. I’ve grown to want them to see me in succeeding with all this resistance, have a taste and join them would you!” An intense fire came hurling at the preoccupied bunny who’s pink hue sparked defenselessly. Water came raining and doused it effortlessly. Two prayer hands together came with a Sea-Maiden looking Roe woman now intervening. “Gark. I shall contend with the Caster, would you please rid the Knight?” A bone crackling thud of his own collar bone snapped out a muscle knot, “Gladly m’lady.” He’d chivalrously advance with clacks of chain-mail, draconic by the etching making. The material would make the most experienced blacksmith quite impressed. Right when Silv’a nearly cradled this end he foolishly met a dinging bell signaling this was still to begin. Among the Crew. There was a structure of power-hierarchy when it came to independence and also those who excelled better in support or team. Each matey held their own extreme weaknesses and flaws whether personality, or, ability. Some weren’t yet pushed or aware of them. Whilst others with their age nearly were incomprehensible with their battle prowess and room commandment. Far above even their own Captain escapades. Weak or strong it mattered little for the same course required all but the tentatively steer of all roles aboard that’s what ruled reign to spoil in all the hoards. Sheik Sphere jotted down this entertaining showdown for the records. Never losing his passion to share and kindle this with fellow passionate readers or to sing it among those of all. While he never combated harm. He had a unique unwavering charisma to avoid it personally remaining seen as too neutral. This was literature fascinating to savor! The matron Sea Wolf gingerly came advancing in against this most heinous. Her white-shark spectacles were softened with a brow. Almost showing pity for this demon. By some strange sensation she felt too eerily familiar as if something was buried beneath every depth of the surface. Trying to explore it would certainly risk drowning and being sunken to the bottomless sea. Her posing pray set him off, radiating apologies. His demonical outlook would handle this manner. One swift hand motion he’d unleash a wall of icy that rapidly drew forth her aspected water was meaningless to his mastery. While it may be true. Elastically watering the most manipulatively potent she stacked and built a tide large enough to withhold density and overly reach bigger heights than his initial walls. Closing her eyes. “Thine trencherman born salt to sea, I call upon thee, children of the deep!” Intense powerful glowering of her irises came as the ice and water connected, freezing at the surface and spreading rapidly. Before trident’s broke through as two conjured Sahagin Egi’s came bellowing out with their own glowing golden eyes.   Their flipper leave the containment, and puncture the demon from midair in the shoulder each. One more elementally made, while the other was scale made and naturally. “Ravage thou land-savages who bring equal pain throughout the sea.” Each of them growing empowered by her boisterous wishes. “He who hurts until one welts, deserves the tide’s sweeping without remorse.” They kept piercing the demonical wizard over and over unrelentingly with a feverishness. His immortality made quite resilient. Organs constantly being gushingly punctured like tarp bait flapping over a boat. Each erupting step of blood from his puncturing and mouth.

He found wherewithal to grapple their trident’s and conduct electricity attempting to fry the Sahagin from the link as the one who was more watery based let go and vaporized it was rapidly reformulating. The scale seemed null too as it didn’t let up. Before lifting up the kabob pierced the treacherous foe and let him go upstream into the ceiling from a non relenting geyser. Pinned he was struggling to contend with this might, unable to get his counter in. Her magic didn’t grow weaker, it was continuously building up and getting more vast. She fearsome conveyed as a magnificent threat he identified. Ever overpowering wrath he began trying to loosen it but he wasn’t finding success. To attempt to resist the current was a foul law he wouldn’t find. He brought upon his ice only for the temperature of the water to become steaming hot. The Inside and entire body was screeching in boiling water. A merging water induced egi found it’s regeneration and binding into the same waters only able to reformulate acidic properties, make the water start melting flesh. Reaching out his fingers he’d point outwardly in the distance before a humongous fallen column pillar broken in half came wedging between him and the hard place and then engulfing the geyser’s source using telekinesis. Which gave destruction to the combined aetherial Egi. Shaking completely before charging at the other Scaly-Egi before the other could pursue. Grappling it’s face and soaring himself with a push of heel electrical aether he’d return that favor of being dismantled against the wall. A trident once again snagged into him and linked the duo close. Regeneration was slow because of the acid as equally contesting the forces. His own palm began to get the same from grappling the jaws of this beastkin. Flame came out of SIlv’a as a response as they would wager against each other two destructiveness. The trident began again creating a vortex of water trying to push and repel him away from the wall or once again setting Silv’a back but his demoniacal fury became even more enlarged and massively maddened.                         (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)

[losingmymindtonight]

been on a for-your-own-good imposed exile from my phone & social media since Friday, so what’s a gal gonna do except eat pizza, reread The Inheritance Cycle, and finish old fic drafts?

I humbly present: Peter can’t sleep, but Tony’s a father now, and he’s got a few tricks up his sleeve.

--

Peter was okay.

He was. That wasn’t even him being self-sacrificing (like May thought) or deferring some kind of PTSD (like Tony thought) or anything. Most of the time, he was totally, completely, undeniably okay.

As a general rule, he just didn’t think about Thanos. He was too busy for that, with planning for his school’s Europe trip and patrolling and learning how to be a big brother to Morgan and resettling a whole apartment with May and rediscovering the absolute thrill of being alive along with the other fifty percent.

He had a good life, and considering everything that had happened, he was so, so lucky.

So, Peter was okay. Despite what Tony and May seemed to think.

He only ever had problems when the sun fell.

Vigilante by day, anxious wreck by night, he thought, more than a little bitter.

There was a bone-aching frustration that came with insomnia. He couldn’t sleep, but he was tired. God, he was so, so tired. His eyelids creaked, his face was tight and worn. Every inch of him was screaming for rest.

And yet, well, here he was: awake, staring at the ceiling, mind swirling down the inescapable drain of death throes and battle heat and the memory of his DNA vibrating apart.

He clenched his fists, then slowly pried them apart. His wrists hurt, yet his webshooters were comfortingly cool on his bare skin.

“Mister Parker,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. suddenly said, and Peter still jumped despite the fact her volume had been lowered and pitched into her softer night mode. “I apologize for the intrusion, but per my protocols, I am to alert Boss if you or Morgan are awake for longer than thirty minutes from the hours of 11:00 pm to 6:00 am. I thought it was only fair to warn you that he is en route to your bedroom and you should be prepared for his arrival.”

There was a time when an alert like that would’ve filled him with annoyance. A time when he would’ve met Tony at the door with a sharp reminder of, I’m almost an adult, I can take care of myself, on his tongue. Now, though, he just felt a dull splash of surprise.

“Mister Stark has rules for if I’m awake?” He asked the ceiling, blinking slowly at the smooth molding. It was different than the popcorn texture in his apartment. Probably easier to deal with when it came to painting.

As if on cue, his door swung open. A soft, yellowish bar of light flashed over his sheets and then collapsed in on itself with a distant click. Huh. So Tony thought that this needed to be a private conversation. 

“It’s called the Cradle Protocol,” Tony offered, and despite the fact that Peter hadn’t actually looked in his direction yet, he could hear the man’s smile in the warmth of the words, like curling into a fireside on a winter’s day. “You know, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh? Thought you spent most of your life wondering about pretty much everything.” His bedframe creaked as Tony settled down near his hip, and suddenly Peter didn’t have much of a choice but to stare up at the man, taking in the burn scars on his face and the gray in his hair and the quiet love in his eyes. “That’s what kids are best at.”

“I’m not really a kid anymore,” he whispered, but not a single inch of the words felt defiant. God, he wanted to be a kid again. He looked back on the moments he’d spent racing to adulthood and wanted to cry. Wanted desperately to hit rewind on all of it.

“All of us are kids, in the end,” Tony said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “And you’ll be my kid forever. Sorry. No exchanges or returns on that policy. It is how it is.”

Tony’s thumb brushed soothingly over his cheek as he spoke, and the contact was rough and calloused and so intensely familiar that Peter let his eyes squeeze shut against it, swallowing hard.

“I don’t want to exchange it,” he whispered, and somehow he felt a little ashamed to admit it. Like he was rearing up against the order of things. Or, like he was admitting the truth in a space where untruths were expected.

There was a pause. Peter blinked his eyes open again, and saw that Tony’s gaze had drifted away from him. He was looking up at the headboard, soft curves of sadness mellowing his face.

Finally, he breathed, eyes tracing their way back to Peter’s own, gentle yet intense.

“Why aren’t you asleep, Peter?”

It was a redundant thing to ask, and both of them knew it. There wasn’t a person in the world who couldn’t guess the why of that question. There were probably a million different people all around the world staring up at a million different ceilings, all cold-eyed and shivering because of the same goddamn reason.

“I don’t know,” he lied.

Was it still lying if everyone knew that what you were going to say was a lie before it even left your mouth?

Tony just nodded, like those three words had told him everything that he’d needed to know. For all Peter could figure, maybe they had.

“Alright.” Tony patted his thigh through the blankets, then stood. “C’mon. Get up.”

It probably said a lot about him, or maybe more about his relationship with Tony, that he was already climbing out of bed even as he muttered a halfhearted, “where’re we going?”

“On a mission,” Tony said, gently tugging one of Peter’s oldest and softest hoodies out of his closet and pushing it against his chest. “Put this on.”

He did as he was told, tottering lazily into the hallway, too exhausted to do anything but follow.

“What’s the mission?”

Tony glanced back just long enough for Peter to see the corner of his mouth quirk up. “I need to put my baby to sleep.”

If he hadn’t been so goddamn tired, he would’ve picked up on the wryness in Tony’s voice. As it was, he blinked hard, brain whirring against the fogginess.

“‘S Morgan awake?”

The question startled a bark of laughter out of Tony. “God, Pete. I can’t believe you’re even managing to walk in a straight line right now.”

They were at the front door, now, and Tony snatched the car keys off of their hook in the entryway and ushered him into the cool night air. Cricket chirps swelled all around them. Peter let his eyes drift shut at the sound, then smiled when he felt Tony snag the edge of his sleeve, gently guiding him over the gravel.

“Ought to get this paved, huh?” Tony muttered, almost to himself, but Peter let the words fall over him anyway. “Would make life a hell of a lot easier when we got those summer monsoons. Plus, less of a tripping hazards for the kiddos, especially when they’re half asleep.”

“‘M awake,” he protested.

“I know,” Tony said, almost under his breath. “I’m working on it.”

Peter heard a beep as one of the cars unlocked, and he forced his eyes back open. They were standing in front of Tony and Pepper’s minivan, something which Peter still couldn’t quite wrap his head around. Tony Stark owned a minivan. Sure, it was a nice minivan, with leather seats and F.R.I.D.A.Y. installed and parking sensors, but it was still a minivan.

“C’mon,” Tony muttered, using the hand that wasn’t braced against Peter’s back to pull open the passenger’s side door. “Slide in.”

He let Tony manhandle him into the seat, even though he could’ve easily done it on his own. The exhaustion had stripped his stubbornness away. The only thing left was a yearning urge to be protected, cradled, loved.

It was good, he supposed, that those three roles seemed to be Tony’s favorites to fulfill.

Tony got into the driver’s seat, then double-checked Peter’s seatbelt twice before starting the car. He cracked the back windows, and the cricket chirps and nature swell mixed hypnotically with the buzz and hum of the engine. Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath, turning his face in Tony’s direction when he felt the man’s eyes on him.

“You’re supposed to be looking where you’re drivin’,” he murmured, knowing that his smile was all drowsy and lopsided. He could feel them moving, though, so he wasn’t wrong.

“Nobody’s out this late.”

“Still need to stay on the road.”

“Oh, hush. I’ll take no driving smack from the child with a learner’s permit.”

He yawned. “Passed the test.”

“You sure did,” Tony murmured, pride warming the words. “I’ve got that picture that May took after hanging in my office.”

“I know.” A shard of longing pierced his chest. “Felt normal that day. Jus’ for a bit.”

He opened his eyes just in time to see guilt cascade over Tony’s face. Whoops. He really hasn’t meant to make his mentor sad. He was just loopy from all the sleepless nights, wading through the detachment weighing in his head. It was hard to stay conscious and keep his filter all at once.

“I’m so sorry, Peter,” Tony said, hands gripping the wheel so tight that his knuckles flashed white under the occasional streetlamp. “I wish I could take it all away.”

Peter just blinked. God, he was tired. His brain ached with it.

“You can’t.”

And Tony couldn’t. Peter knew that. Iron Man could do a lot of things, even survive the constriction of space, but he couldn’t void memories. Nobody could.

“No,” Tony admitted, and even through the fuzziness in his head, Peter found the wherewithal to be surprised, “but I can be here.”

Peter let his eyes drift shut again. Somehow, that was all the fixing that he needed Tony to do. I can be here.

That was it, wasn’t it? It was why the memories of Thanos rung so clear at night and pitched silent during the day. Because Peter hadn’t really been afraid of dying during the battles. He’d been terrified, horrified, by the thought of being left alone.

And at night, in his bedroom, walls and doors and locks between Tony or May or anybody else who would stave off the quiet, that fear was so much easier to taste.

He was so, so afraid that at the end of it all, he’d been irreversibly alone.

“Can you talk to me?” He whispered.

He just wanted words. Something substantive in the nothingness of night. And Tony was only ever speechless when there was something to be afraid of.

He’d... He’d been silent when Peter had died. Had been silent after he’d done the Snap, too. The look on the man’s face, the lack of speech in the haze, had rung in Peter’s nightmares ever since.

He could hear the roughness in Tony’s voice when he responded, and Peter couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about his silence on Titan, too. If he even remembered the stillness from the Compound’s dust.

“Of course, buddy.”

And he did. He talked about Rhodey and college and the first time he met Happy. Peter found himself drifting in and out as he rambled, although he never seemed to fully wrap his hand around true sleep. He’d nearly get there, Tony’s words fading into something he couldn’t quite comprehend, and then he’d recognize the shift and jolt himself out of it.

Somehow, it was even more frustrating than what he’d been doing before. At least then, he’d known he wasn’t going to get any sleep. Here, it kept dangling in front of him. And to make it worse, every aborted attempt at sleep felt like a failure. Like he’d screwed it all up, despite all the effort Tony was putting into helping him.

“Sorry,” Peter suddenly muttered, blinking away his most recent near-rest. Tony fell silent. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Shh, Pete,” Tony soothed, right hand abandoning the steering wheel and settling on his arm. “It’s not your fault. We’ll get there.”

“‘M trying.”

“I know you are. You’re doing great.”

For a breath, Tony just rubbed Peter’s arm, breath and nature filling the car.

“I used to do this for Morgan, you know,” he finally said, voice low. “Learned it within the first month. Think I must’ve put a thousand miles on the car, driving around just for some precious minutes of peace.”

“Ben used to drive me around when I was little,” Peter mumbled, twisting until he found a comfortable position: draped over the center console, head just inches away from Tony’s elbow. The console was leather and padded, which made it a surprisingly good pillow. Plus, he was close enough to pick up the steady thrumming of Tony’s heartbeat. “I didn’t like sleeping after my parents died. Car always worked, though. Dunno why.”

Tony’s hand settled on the top of his head, and a swoosh of comfort whisked from that one point all the way down to his toes. “It’s the vibrations from the engine. Low frequencies make us tired. It mimics the sensation of being rocked to sleep.”

He smiled. Trust Mister Stark to turn anything into a physics lesson. “‘S science,” he muttered.

Tony’s thumb swiped over his temple. “It’s science,” he repeated. “Do you want another story?”

Hmm. Yes. And he wanted Tony’s hand to stay right there, too. The tips of his fingers kept brushing over the nape of his neck, and the pattern was nice. Slow. The kind of monotony that was so easy to get lost in.

“Mm.”

“How about a special one?”

“Mm.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Tony said, laughter in the words. He sounded pleased, though. Peter was too busy falling asleep to figure out why. “Y’know, I never went to Queens much when I was a kid. Howard wasn’t a big fan. And then I didn’t have much of a reason to go once I was an adult. Everything I needed was in Manhattan or Malibu. Point is: imagine how surprised I was when a web-slinging vigilante actually forced me out there…”

Peter drifted off long before he could recognize that the story was about him.

--

Peter half-surfaced to the quiet thud of a car door opening, and the crunch of shoes on gravel.

It wasn’t the usual way he woke up. He’d gotten used to jolting into consciousness, sweat slicking his trembling limbs and damp sheets snarling all around him. It was a violent thing, full of heartbeat and rib-ache.

But this was soft. Warm. Safe hands slid under the back of his neck, his seat tilting back until he was lying almost completely flat. On instinct, his eyes flickered open, and he grinned sleepily at Tony, who shushed him in a barely-there murmur.

“Nice and easy, Pete,” Tony said, voice warm and safe and already blurring. “Now be a good boy and go back to sleep.”

And for once in Peter’s life, it was as simple as that.

[hallothere]

Depths of Evendim

This one is about, well, the pretty dark things that happen on the Docks in Annuminas. So warnings about bodies of water and drowning apply, though no one dies and nothing graphic is detailed!

Arms like a frog, legs walking backwards. Frog arms, backwards leg-

The spear butt found his shoulder again and forced him under. Bronagir barely had time to suck in a breath before the water had closed over him. His boots were waterlogged and even the light uniform of the Rangers was a hindrance. In fact, it was somewhat of an uphill battle to keep his head above the water- and that was before the Angmarim made things difficult. 

The shaft of the spear slipped away and Bronagir surfaced. He could hear the invaders laughing from somewhere up on the dock, but he couldn’t see them for the hood now suctioned to the upper half of his face. However at this stage he could little afford to try and remove it. Any energy not spent staying afloat would kill him faster. 

It had, perhaps, been shortsighted of him to come to Evendim without so much as a thought for the lake. Tinnudir was an island. Annuminas was half surrounded by water. It had only been when Arfirion mentioned swimming to Tyl Ruinen once a month that Bronagir had begun to worry. 

The nearest lake to Esteldín was practically in Bree, and while he had seen rivers a great many times, few of his kinsmen ever ventured in them! He knew how to fish and what to do in a flood (stay away!) but swimming had not been high on his list of priorities. Not until now. 

Calenglad had nearly managed to send him away with a stern look and a reminder that such trips to the islands were necessary. Bronagir was ashamed to admit he had gone more pale than was likely warranted, and begged his new leader to speak with him just a moment. Calenglad had quickly changed his tune. As it turned out, the swimming trips were a training exercise for new recruits, who for the most part had grown up in Ost Forod or on the banks of the Baranduin. They had boats, Calenglad had assured him with a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Bronagir could be taught soon. 

How happy he was to have learned. 

The spear struck the top of his head this time, and he was barely able to grab some air before the water took him again. These Angmarim… Bronagir realized quickly for all the peril they faced in Esteldín, they were well hidden. They had been safer than in any place except maybe the heart of the Shire. Annuminas was full of danger for him, the least of which stood above on the docks mocking him. 

This time, the spear butt found traction in the folds of his cloak, and the Angmarim held him down for longer than they had before. Bronagir could not fight the panic welling up inside him, and clawed for the surface. He tried to hit the spear shaft away, but the struggle only ended with an arm tangled in his cloak. Valuable time was lost untangling himself, and he bobbed further underneath the dark water. 

Apparently, this was too quick of an ending for the Angmarim. The spear lifted, and Bronagir was able to surface again. He tried to lean backwards a little, as Calenglad had taught him, but he did not want to risk making himself a larger target. 

It was draining him, treading water like this. Calenglad had not drilled him on endurance like the group swimming around Men Erain had done. Bronagir’s lesson had been in the shallows near to the bridge, close to the safety of the camp. 

“I will not have you lost to these waters.” Calenglad had said, “For long have the Dunedain trusted Nenuial, and long have we been protected.”

Bronagir had not felt calm in the water, but he had not felt wholly ill at ease. It felt like a risk, standing chest high in an ancient lake while Calenglad coaxed him to lean back until his feet left the floor. From there, he spent a great deal of time with one hand never leaving Calenglad’s arm, and the other frantically swatting water as if battling a swarm of flies. He learned his head was much like a lever, and how it leaned affected the rest of his body. He learned his lungs were his ally, and a greater lifting force than arm or leg when his energy was spent. 

Air felt like a luxury now. If he could ill afford spare movement he could even less take for granted a single breath. His legs moved back and forth mechanically from hours and hours of drills. His arms made the motions while his vision swam with him and his mind could not keep a steady grasp on him. 

The blunt end of the spear returned, and there was nothing Bronagir could do to fight it. 

His hood slipped free under the waves this time. He’d not had the wherewithal to close his eyes, though the lake was still deep as night. A bit of hazy light floated before him as they were both tossed around by the water. Bronagir had spent his strength fighting a different kind of battle than his brethren. He could only hope their casualties were few, and their own struggles won. 

Despite his wishes, air began to escape through his lips. The Angmarim still did not let up. They must have tired of him at last. Bronagir made a last feeble attempt to unpin himself, but the spear shaft held fast. 

I held out as long as I could Calenglad, he thought.

Bronagir couldn’t feel the spear shaft anymore, but he couldn’t feel much else either. The waves dappled in carefree light above his head. Panic rose with the escaping air in his chest, but there was naught to be done. 

But when all hope had gone, Bronagir’s waning awareness was drawn to a great disturbance next to him. Something hit the water and pushed him aside. And before he could be drawn further under, a pair of hands came up under his arms and thrust him to the surface. 

“Bronagir!”

The voice above him did not belong to any Angmarim. Bronagir gasped and struggled however feebly to keep his face above the surface. He was not clear enough to see, but as the waves rolled back and forth he could hear. 

“Quickly! Grab on! Bronagir-“

Something bumped his shoulder, and with renewed desperation he found the strength to grab it. Clinging tightly, Bronagir was hauled forward and upward until a pair of hands grabbed his tunic and hauled him onto the dock. 

“Careful, turn him. I’ll grab a blanket.”

The second voice seemed to come from farther away, but Bronagir did not have the energy to ponder it. He was being held and coaxed into spitting water. Each breath was more a series of coughs than anything else. His rescuer detached his cloak and flung it aside, evidenced by the lifted weight and squelching sound to his right. He was lying half in someone’s lap and whoever it was insisted on prodding his stomach as if to encourage him to spit up more of the lake. 

“Bronagir, can you hear me? Please, wake up- We need to move you at once. It’s not safe here.”

Weakly, Bronagir swatted the hand away. Of course it wasn’t safe here. He’d nearly just been drowned by Angmarim invaders. The understatement was enough to get him to open his eyes, and instead of the depths of the lake he found Orchalwë’s face staring back at him. 

“You are alive.” Was all the elder Ranger said for a long moment, before trying to help his young companion to his feet. Bronagir was unsteady, but he knew they had to flee. 

“Who… was it who jumped in after me?” He managed between coughs. It looked as if Orchalwë did not want to answer- or at least took issue with him trying to speak so soon- but eventually he responded. 

“Neither of us went in after you. One of the dead invaders fell off the dock, and Gwonil nearly dove in for you when you came back to the surface.”

Bronagir frowned but focused on Orchalwë’s brutal pace back to Gwonil’s boat. She was waiting for them both with a blanket, and pushed the craft off the dock once all were boarded. 

More puzzled than before, Bronagir let Orchalwë fuss over him as he tried to stay awake long enough to remember those last few moments underwater. 

“Someone was there…” he croaked from within his swaddling prison, “Someone lifted me to the surface. My strength was gone when you arrived. Had it not been for that help, you may not have pulled me living from the lake.”

Both Gwonil and Orchalwë looked at him curiously, their faces betraying very little in the flickering light of the boat lantern. Finally, after a long moment, Gwonil broke the silence. 

“Emmellîn.” She whispered to Orchalwë. “Though… though I thought she did not venture out from the Rushingdale.”

Bronagir blinked first at Gwonil and then at Orchalwë. He was fading fast, but felt owed an explanation. 

Orchalwë was the one to take mercy on him. “It is… what some of us call the Maiden of the Lake, Gwindeth, friend of Elendil and protector of these waters. I had heard she spoke sometimes to Calenglad, for he would visit her in Gwindethrond to talk of the distant past but-... Others have spoken of seeing her in storms, or when they met peril in the waters of Nenuial but came out unscathed.” He paused again. “They would not call her Emmellîn if she was too unkind or too distant. Calenglad always looked fondly upon the Lake.”

Of course, he had heard something of the Lady Gwindeth. But as much as he wanted to listen, to hear more of this strange Lady his kinsmen would liken to a mother, Bronagir instead fell shivering into the middle of the boat and knew no more. 

When he awoke, he was underwater again. It was dark, and the pressure on his chest gripped him. Bronagir thrashed and fought clawing for the surface-

Several pairs of hands had him, and they steadied him as he heaved up the nothing in his stomach. He was once more on dry land, not in the depths of the lake. Orchalwë was still there, and Gwonil, but so was Calenglad, and Cannasgam and Cannuion. It seemed he had come around not far from the dock at Tinnudir, in the middle of being moved to somewhere drier. 

“Bronagir-“ Calenglad gripped his arm and searched his face. “You… you are very lucky.”

It seemed a small statement after something that felt very big. Bronagir managed a laugh but he clung all the tighter to the closest arm in reach. 

“I… have the arms of a frog.” he joked with some effort, and coughed a good while afterward. “And now… the voice to match!”

It had rather the opposite effect from the one he’d hoped. Calenglad looked pained, and more aged now than he had when he’d discovered another recruit Nethryn had been lying about being even seventeen summers old-- and had in fact snuck away to join them. Bronagir’s false cheer faltered. Taking his arm up again, Calenglad directed them all to head to the Keep.

“You will all swim.” He said solemnly, after a long silence. “All who come to Evendim will swim, or I will teach them. From now on-“

One of Bronagir’s legs was very much asleep and he stumbled, nearly taking down Gwonil with him. Calenglad and Orchalwë practically carried him the rest of the way to the Keep, hearing no protest and making no delay. In short order, Bronagir was settled once more somewhere dry, having been relieved of his boots, his uniform, and even his knife. And undignified as it was, Uiriel propped him up against one wall, with pillows preventing his leaning in any direction. 

“You might have swallowed much more water than you know, or breathed it in and not coughed it all back up.” Uiriel said. “Tirnedhruith and I are going to watch you to make sure you do not drown out of water.”

Bronagir frowned. That was usually only a danger to children, who were fatigued more easily and slept more deeply. But he was in no state to protest. The things that had transpired before were catching up to him, and a chill deeper than the blankets could fight crept over him. 

“Sleep.” Uiriel said, taking pity on him. “Fight this no more. We will wake you.”

He slept soundly, and when he woke up once on his own Tirnedhruith was there. Many recruits were wary of the veteran Ranger on account of his size and his stern countenance. Even in the Keep, Tirnedhruith was primed to fight. Such was the way of the Dunedain. But after one glance at the ready arm and sturdy shield it held, Bronagir never felt more safe in all his life.  

Uiriel woke him again in what he assumed were the morning hours, though he could not tell from inside. He realized he was in the heart of the Keep, where they prepared in contingency for a siege on Tinnudir and where children preferred to shelter in times of storm. He did not see Tirnedhruith nearby, but found him after a moment tending to another pale and weary looking Ranger Bronagir recognized from Annuminas. 

This was one of Marshall Fimdir’s men- Firinhad- that he had been assigned to patrol with as a part of his training. Dínhaleth, their patrol leader, was there too and she looked as if she had swam from Annuminas herself. She was talking with Tirnedhruith and gesturing to Firinhad, who seemed to be on the verge of a faint. It was then Bronagir noticed the bloodied bandages.

“Bronagir, eyes here.” Uiriel blocked the rest of the room from his sight and forced him to look at her. She studied his face for a moment, then held up a finger. “Follow this with your eyes. Don’t look anywhere else if you can help it.”

Frowning, Bronagir complied. Uiriel moved her hand around and he was able to track it easily. He was fairly sure he had not been hit on the head at any time recently. Yet Uiriel carried on as if he’d been bludgeoned, checking under his hair for bumps and squinting at him intently. 

“Is something wrong?” Bronagir ventured. 

Uiriel pursed her lips. “Orchalwë wishes to conduct a debriefing when you are well enough to speak. He was concerned you had sustained a head injury and asked to make sure you were not suffering from that as well.” 

Bronagir felt the ghost of an Angmarim spear on the crown of his head and shuddered. But he took a deep breath and looked back to Uiriel. “No, from that at least I was spared. If my clothes are dry I feel I am well enough to speak to Orchalwë. Else, I shall take this blanket as my cloak and parade around like a wandering shade.”

That got the desired laugh as Uiriel was reassured of his condition. “Tirnedhruith set them by the fire, and they are not only dry but warm as well.” The smile that broadened on her face was infectious. “But I would have told you otherwise had you been concussed.”

“Lying to your patients now? Egads, Healer, such treachery!” Bronagir’s joke was marred by another cough and he found his chest sorer than he remembered it being. Uiriel’s scrutinizing gaze was back on him now, but Bronagir waved a leaden arm. “Truly I am better, if not fully well.” When Uiriel did not relent, he tried again, “And I swear upon the walls of Esteldín I will tell you if I discover so much as a bruise or a splinter.” 

With a sigh, the healer stood and went to retrieve his things. Bronagir took a moment to lie there and breathe. Calenglad was right, he had been extremely lucky. Had he not quailed at the thought of swimming to Tyl Ruinen, he would be dead. He would not have survived nearly long enough for Orchalwë and Gwonil to rescue him. Idly, he wondered if he might have still been rescued by the Lady of Nenuial, even if he’d regarded her watery domain with such ignorance. 

Uiriel returned with his things and switched posts with Tirnedhruith for a moment in case he needed assistance in dressing. Tirnedhruith in turn helped him to stand and handed him things as needed. In truth, Bronagir felt well enough to go now, but his silent warden scrutinized him almost as intently as Uiriel had. 

“Before I go-” Bronagir interjected, “-I did swear a solemn oath to Uiriel. I found two bruises.” Tirnedhruith’s face did not change but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes. “And I would not leave without informing her of them.”

Methodically, he pulled on the neck of his shirt to reveal a coin-sized spot on his chest below the shoulder. “From the spear, I think. Luckily the Angmarim don’t know which is the sharp end.”

Tirnedhruith did not find this jest nearly as funny, and Bronagir was quick to abandon the whole pretense. When the glare did not lift, he remembered he had mentioned two bruises and supposed he was expected to declare the second before being allowed to leave. He hiked up his left sleeve to expose his bicep and mumbled, “Landed on a stone.”

It was a tense moment before Tirnedhruith nodded. Feeling ever more like a prisoner rather than a patient, Bronagir was steered by the shoulder away from his bedroll and into the meeting room. Orchalwë was not yet there, though Uiriel had gone ahead of him and was reporting something to Gwonil who looked pained. 

“Dínhaleth had grave news, but nothing as bad as you had feared. The docks were not overrun, though she fears they might try something like this again. She said the patrol was able to rescue all the others, even Ningeryn. Wounded as he was, Firinhad knew how to revive her.” 

Uiriel stopped as soon as she realized who it was in the room with them, and Bronagir felt he had heard more than he was meant to. Ningeryn was one of the other recruits in his patrol, and he had not seen her since they had been separated. Luckily, Uiriel was saved any kind of diversion as Orchalwë joined them. 

“Bronagir! You are recovered then?” He asked this more to Tirnedhruith and Uiriel, but seemed satisfied overall. Tirnedhruith did go so far as to steer his ever-embarrassed charge to a chair before leaving with Uiriel. Now, it was just Bronagir, Gwonil, and Orchalwë. The debrief could begin. 

He supposed he might as well get straight to the point and eliminate any awkwardness. “We were on patrol near the Port, scouting between the Port itself and the Gate of Adannon. Dínhaleth had orders to make sure the Angmarim hadn’t made as heavy landfall as they appeared to, and to burn any boats we discovered.”

This much they probably both knew, but he would tell it as it occurred and leave as few questions as possible. “Dínhaleth split the group. I went with Ningeryn and Firinhad to the northwest, where we did find and burn a rowboat. Firinhad asked me to double back along our trail to fetch some rope so we could cross another section of ruins. On the way back I… ran afoul of an Angmarim scout who had snuck up behind us. I dispatched him, but before he fell, he grabbed onto me and upset my balance so that I… tumbled down the hill and into the midst of his own patrol.”

Ashamed as he was to admit this, neither Orchalwë or Gwonil regarded him with a chastising look. “And then you were captured?” Orchalwë pressed gently after a moment. 

Bronagir took a breath. “Yes. Three of them grabbed me and, when I would not talk, marched me to their own rowboat and made for the docks. There were others there, and dark things of which you are no doubt aware. I thought I was being brought for questioning, but they cut my bonds and pushed me into the lake. You… well, you arrived for the rest.”

“Yes.” Gwonil replied quietly. Her fists were clenched and Orchalwë looked slightly ill at the memory. Bronagir supposed he must be luckier than they imagined. For all the terror he had experienced, he had not witnessed his kinsman succumb to the lake. That… that would have been harder for him to bear than the weight of the Angmarim spear. 

The room had fallen silent again. Bronagir nearly lost his nerve, but he was burning to know what disaster had befallen the rest of his patrol. 

“Ningeryn and Firinhad… were they captured as well?”

Orchalwë’s sigh sparked his panic afresh. “Yes. Firinhad told us much of it. When you did not return, he and Ningeryn followed your trail to the shore. They did not double back for Dínhaleth, but scouted the docks in a stolen rowboat.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “I cannot disparage their efforts, for they slew many invaders and enabled us to retake lost ground. But Firinhad was wounded and Ningeryn nearly drowned. We came to rescue you while Dínhaleth and the rest of your patrol sought after them. They arrived in Tinnudir just behind us.”

Bronagir swallowed thickly. “And Ningeryn? I saw Firinhad talking but did not see any sign-”

Gwonil cut in. “She will recover. Firinhad needed to push water from her lungs, and she will take more time to rest than you will.”

He didn’t miss the order for future rest, but said nothing. Even though the circumstances had been out of his control, he had put his commanders through enough already. Orchalwë in particular looked as if he had not slept all night and Gwonil was still tense. A surge of apprehension came over Bronagir without warning and he took a breath to try and dispel it. Unfortunately, the source of his agony was misunderstood. 

“You are not yet well.” The legs of Orchalwë’s chair scraped across the stone floor as he jumped to his feet. “I will help you back downstairs. You must rest-”

Hastily Bronagir shook his head. “No, no- I am… Orchalwë, I am ashamed. I could not have bested three Angmarim that took me by surprise, but… But had I not been captured, my patrol would not have suffered thus.”

Orchalwë did not sit, but rounded the table to stand by Bronagir’s chair. “Battle is never easy and the aftermath even less so. Though you are right that you are not to blame, and we can still count ourselves fortunate that you all survived.”

With that, the debrief was swiftly concluded so that Orchalwë could march Bronagir back downstairs. He supposed that the extra precautions were unwarranted, but all of them had been shaken. The cruelty of the enemy was known to them, yet the events of last night were more harrowing than any he had witnessed here.

Tirnedhruith was waiting downstairs and accepted his duties as warden again eagerly. Bronagir was turned over and put up mock protest to assure them their fears were unwarranted. 

“Really,” he said, trying to find balance between reassurance and an insistance that would not draw Tirnedhruith’s ire, “I have come through it mostly unscathed.” He stopped his protest short when he saw Calenglad had returned, and was at Firinhad’s bedside. Ah. They had incurred the worry of their leader, which was to be feared as much as his wrath. The anger of Calenglad boded ill for their enemies and promised swift action from the master strategist. But his concern was all-consuming. He could turn his analytical mind to the problem, but the worry would not abate as swiftly as his rage would. As long as the issue remained, Calenglad could not rest easy. 

“You care not for me, to deliver me back into this.” Bronagir murmured to his ever-present warden. He thought he saw the corner of Tirnedhruith’s mouth twitch, but the dour expression was cemented again before he could be sure. Either way, he was made to sit back down. Again, Bronagir was called to mutter “Traitor” as Tirnedhruith made off with his boots. 

He did not have to wait long for Calenglad to venture over. It looked as if Firinhad had fallen asleep at last, and Dínhaleth had taken up a post at his bedside. With everything in hand, their leader was free to seek out the initial casualty. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Bronagir knew he had to be honest but did not want to burden Calenglad any more than he already had. “Much better. I am tired, of course, but Gwonil and Orchalwë have sent me back to rest. I am sure it will go away in no time at all.” He was careful not to try another jest, not with the look on Calenglad’s face. There was some plot, some scheme of concern cooking, and Bronagir needed to survive that as well. 

“Very good.” Calenglad said at last. “Orchalwë was worried you had hit your head. He said when they pulled you from the water, you were not speaking sense.” When he was met with an expectant look, Bronagir realized that was more a question than a statement. 

“Oh… Oh well I… I thought someone had jumped in and helped me to the surface. Orchalwë said neither of them jumped in after me, and Gwonil thought it might have… been… the Lady of Nenuial.” he finished quietly. 

Calenglad’s face remained frozen and completely unreadable. Bronagir was worried he was about to call for Uiriel or Tirnedhruith, when Calenglad exhaled deeply. “I see.”

There had to be more to it than that, but when nothing else was forthcoming, Bronagir was left with more questions than before. Had it really happened as he remembered? Did the others think him mad? Calenglad, at least, was not insisting he be checked for another head wound. Though it was a long time again before his leader spoke.

“I would not ask you to do this now, or too soon, but it would be best for you to train with Calatherdir. He is one of the strongest swimmers I know, and he has offered to help others in the past. Please-” Calenglad raised a hand, “-do not think this a punishment. It would be best if-... I need everyone to do this.” 

Bronagir understood. “Of- of course. I will make sure to… set up something when I see him next.” 

Calenglad smiled back at him, more grateful than pleased, before he stood. “Thank you, Bronagir. I will let you rest, though it brings me joy to see you well.”

And with that, he was alone a moment with his thoughts. Bronagir was determined more than ever he would learn to swim, rather than just tread water. In addition, it might be good to see if Ningeryn was given a similar task. No one had said as much, but he suspected she and Firinhad had nearly met an identical fate to his. Perhaps it would be easier to… overcome with an ally. They would no doubt be joined, and Bronagir felt buoyed at the prospect of training with his kin. There was strength as well as safety in numbers, and perhaps the sight of them all would ease Calenglad’s fears. 

Tirnedhruith came back to resume his silent watch. That was a comfort. Silent vigil was the way of the Dunedain and- as Gwonil and now Bronagir believed- that of their hidden allies. 

Should he ever meet Gwindeth- or Emmellîn- he would have to thank her. 

[birdymuses]

💫 ( for Hanako? :) )

Send me a 💫 and I'll set my music player on random. I'll then pick my favourite line from the song that comes on, and write a Drabble whole ass fic oops based on it.

Words: 3,001

“I like you so much that it scares me,” he admitted, because he was a sinner and this was a sin and Nene’s arms were a confessional he’d gladly rot inside of.

To live, we're dying Why wouldn't we see our world as dark? But I won't spend time Resenting the way things are  ♫

He looked at her sideways under the plump passing clouds, breeze blowing her hair around in a flurry as little rays of sunlight danced across her upturned face. This show in itself was so captivating to Hanako that only the threat of Nene’s ire was enough to turn his gaze away from her.  It happened the same way all the time.  She’d glance over and he’d settle down innocently, eager to appear natural and unassuming, and then he’d be’d be back just the same the moment she seemed preoccupied. 

Afternoons on the roof included a lot of this sort of thing lately.  Lots of “studying,” lots of goofing around, laughs and glances, tit for tat.  Today looked to be about the same as always, save for the a row of gloomy clouds on the horizon. Way off in the distance loomed the threat of a dark end to their expanse of August blue. Picturesque as the the afternoon was, he supposed a storm couldn’t hurt. Even if it sent them back inside, it didn’t matter as long as he could be with Nene. And for now, he could be with Nene, if only for a little while longer. Hanako resolved that he wouldn’t spend time resenting the way things are.

It was a shame, though --the storm that came today, and the storm he knew he’d bring tomorrow.  It would be a study camp for the ages, at least.  One passed down as legend from student to student for at least a year or three.  Nene would be mad at him as long as she had the wherewithal to, but even that would pass. After all, everything had to end, didn't it? Even this. Everything would always end around him even as he remained forever doomed to stay the same.

Lost in thought, Hanako nearly failed to notice Yashiro’s lack of commentary for this particular afternoon, but once he did notice, the silence was deafening. She had grown so quiet that Hanako feared he might need to roll over to wake her before the rain came in. Just as he sat up to do so, the familiar lilt of her voice broke the silence.

"Do you have regrets?"

Her voice was soft, reverently so, and she seemed to be deep in thought about something.  He frowned. He did his best to read her question, coming up short in every respect.  

"Regrets?" Hanako asked.

"Yeah, like...before you died. Were there things you wanted to do?"

Hanko balked at that, stuttering, buying time   Some sick, needy part of him knew exactly where this was going and knew that he couldn’t bear for it to go there.  On any other day it would be easy to grab hold of this conversation, to joke and lie in some bombastic manner that would make it all go away, but he couldn't shake the feeling that today was different. Her face remained alarmingly neutral, giving Hanako the distinct impression she wouldn’t let him slide this time.  Her eyes bore into him, almost as though knowing that this was the last day they’d ever have to talk about this.

"You're not going to die," Hanako said direct and dismissively. He thumped back down onto the pavement. "I don't want to talk about this again."

"But if I do, die!" Nene huffed defensively, pushing up abruptly on her hands. “When I do!” 

She loomed over him, scowling, and Hanako dared to think that she was pretty even then. Even clenched up and hot to the gills with irritation, she couldn’t escape being that way. 

"I don't have much time left. You said it yourself! You said--"

"You're not going to die!" Hanako repeated impatiently. He rolled over to avoid her glare, which grew all the more dagger-like with each passing second. “I’ll make sure of it. You wont have regrets because you're gonna live a long life and find your first job and meet a hot guy and have a happy family and find all the time in the world for everything and anything you could ever want. You'll--"

Hanako snapped to silence, his teeth clattering painfully as he felt himself pulled back to face Nene. Leaving his gakuran unbuttoned had been a mistake, he noted, now effectively leashed by the permanent school tie he wore.  The end of it was wrapped daintily around Nene’s palm, and her eyes glinted with a terrifying willingness to use it. He nearly found the voice to protest when Nene cut him off.

“Would you stop talking for once and just listen?”

Hanako’s jaw clamped shut immediately.

“Be honest with me. Why do you care so much?” Nene asked, her vise grip insisting upon his prompt and direct answer all the while. “If I die, I mean. I don’t have much time to figure this out and you won’t even let me talk about it. You’re the only person I could ever talk to who has experience with this, so why...?”

Hanako’s eyes had blown wide now, expecting something like comeuppance but wholly unprepared for the force of it. When he didn’t speak up fast enough, Nene continued, her tone growing frantic.

“Answer me! You’re a ghost, so why should you care if I live or die?  What does it matter? It’s not--”

“It matters,” Hanako interjected, though he struggled to supply a reason. It shouldn’t matter, at least not to him. By all accounts Nene’s life was equally meaningless as his own, equally meaningless as anyone else’s, but...

“It just does,” Hanako said, his voice barely a whisper. “I wont let you die. So please, let’s not...”

Releasing the tie, Nene sighed deeply and settled back on the pavement.  She seemed to recognize the brick wall before her as she pulled her knees to her chest, clearly unsatisfied, but apparently unwilling to have this argument again.  All of a sudden it was over, just like that, quickly as it had begun.  Hanako couldn’t do a mental victory lap, though, not while watching her deflate mere feet from him.  He fidgeted guiltily, glancing between her and the view overhead.

“It matters,” He repeated at length. After a long few moments the silence between them had somehow circled back to being comfortable enough to break.  Nene was good at that, Hanako observed. Making everybody comfy even when she could rightfully strangle them right then and there. Making everybody at home even when they didn’t deserve it. It was this kind of ease between them that made Hanako entirely too honest, and he shoved himself to say something before he could could think better of it. 

“The world is lucky to have people like you living in it.” he said. “If I had known somebody like you when I was alive, I think maybe I would have had fewer regrets. So...take a long time.”

Take a long time to live. Take a long time to die. Take whatever time is needed to be free of the Near Shore when everything finally ends. Take every precaution to never end up wayward spirit, shackled for all eternity to a toilet. But Nene didn’t move, apparently not satisfied by that answer either.

Pulling the brim of his hat down over his eyes, he sighed.

“Sorry...”

“It’s okay,” Nene replied, a little too immediately for Hanako’s taste. The afternoon stretched on in agonizing slow motion.

The two lay in silence for a time, feigning some semblance of a usual day. As the clouds above knotted together in groups much thicker than before, Hanako wished he could be the same.  He wished he could be knotted up somewhere, blending in and blowing by, not sticking out or prodding as the thorn he was doomed to be.  The sky took on a drab gray and Hanako dimmed to match.

“I like you, you know?”

Hanako jolted up, nearly bashing his skull against Nene’s in the process. She was beside now, her face suddenly every inch as close as her voice led him to believe. Somehow, Hanako hadn’t noticed her drawing near.  She grinned at his reaction, apparently delighted to have the upper hand for once, and batted playfully at the brim of his cap. The offending article tipped off of Hanako before he could catch it, leaving him exposed under Yashiro’s attention. He stifled a grin of his own. Her nerve was unfortunately always a delight.

“I like you, too,” he mumbled back. Because of course he did. Because it was normal and completely unprovocative for a friend to like their friend, and anybody with a pulse could immediately identify Miss Nene Yashiro as likable. Anybody with a pulse, and at least a handful without. The plausible deniability of it all might have been wonderfully deafening were the beating of Nene’s heart not doubly so.

The girl brightened somewhat and took Hanako’s hands in hers. She settled down on her knees within Very Serious Heart to Heart distance, apparently dead set on whatever point she had come over to make.

“I’m sorry you have regrets,” she began. Hanako nodded, indicating that he was in fact listening this time, even if it meant ignoring the powerful urge to contest that assertion.

“I’m going to die one day, whether you like it or not. Maybe today, or tomorrow, or next month...”

Hanako opened his mouth, but immediately snapped it shut again when he felt a warning yank at his tie.

“Even if it’s in 90 years!” she insisted, effectively neutering his commentary, “It doesn’t make a difference. I’ve decided that when I die, I don’t want to have any regrets. So starting right now, I’m going to do everything I want to do. Even the stuff that’s scary. And that means saying what I want to say even though it might turn out embarrassing.”

Nene was glowing scarlet now, her body shaking with the force of all the teenage hormones she had gathered to forge into this raw willpower.  Her newfound gall was now a bludgeoning weapon, and Hanako its waiting victim. He gave her fingers a light squeeze, mentally pawing at anything he could think of slow this obvious freight train of a conversation.  Its approach eclipsed everything, loud and speeding, promising to flatten every single protective measure he’d put in place up to now.  Impulsively, he interrupted.

“You’ve already said that though. Before. You’ve said it, so it’s a silly thing to regret.”  Don’t think about me. Don’t regret me.  Don’t become attached to me.

Nene’s expression fell, unimpressed. It was the kind of face that had played games like this before--the ones where he derailed her point-- and she very clearly wasn’t interested in playing again.

“I wanted to say it again,” she defended, indignant. “I like you. I’ll say it as many times as I need to if you’re gonna keep being a dummy about it.”

She pushed him roughly, and Hanako grinned despite the turmoil inside him. His escape was suddenly in sight. He could make it embarrassing. He could make it a game. Playing in was the way out.

“Why do you like a dummy so much?” he teased, sitting up to take her hands again. He narrowed his gaze, practically daring her to say something sincere in this intimate position. Anything that he could gawk and laugh in her face about.  Nene, familiar with this tactic, deflected.

“Why do I like a dummy so much?” she huffed aloud. Hanako was about to answer, when her face softened to something uncomfortably frank.

“Don’t tease me about it.”

A beat passed between them, and like that it was settled.

“...okay.”

He was always powerless against Nene’s wishes, it turned out. Ghost abilities notwithstanding.

The two sat in another uncomfortable silence, neither willing to engage again even inches apart. Even hand in hand.  Nene’s frustration was always tangible in moments like these, thick and heavy in the air, a weight slamming down on Hanako’s shoulders and anchoring him for the remainder of the day. It wasn’t unfamiliar, he supposed. Even before Nene, plenty of people had tried and failed to get a satisfying conclusion out of him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that dealing with him was akin to pulling teeth. It wasn’t like he didn’t do it on purpose.  Nene wasn’t the first and likely wouldn’t be last, so why did it sting so much?  He sighed, tightening his grip on her hands.

“I’ll say it again, too. If you want.”

No. 

No, no, no, don’t do that. But Hanako was too selfish, too cowardly to do anything else. Not when every fiber of his being screamed to see her smiling again.

“I like you, Yashiro.”  Releasing her hands, he moved to put his arms around her.  “I like you a lot.”

Nene returned the hug immediately, emboldening that mongrel, clinging thing that thumped at Hanako’s heart, howling and whining for him to just fucking be honest for once. He inhaled deep, vomiting the words before he could stop himself.

“I like you so much that it scares me,” he admitted, because he was a sinner and this was a sin and Nene’s arms were a confessional he’d gladly rot inside of. “I like you so much that I daydream now, every day. And I have something to look forward to, every day. And I barely think about anything else lately, and I...”

Hanako trailed off, gasping desperately at air he did not need, trying to collect himself, trying to land on something. A point maybe? A reason for puking his metaphorical guts all over someone who would surely suffer for it.

“And, and...I need a next life, because I’m not satisfied to know you just once.”

Nene was stock still when he pulled away, her eyes blown wide, startled by a sincerity he’d never once offered even to her. For all her prodding, she apparently hadn’t foreseen anything quite so explosive as this.  Then,

CRACCCK!!

A loud boom shook both of them from their stalemate, and Hanako looked away just in time to see a flash of lightning in the distance. All the fluffy clouds had turned dark now, signaling the imminence of rain.

“My rosemary!” Nene gasped, before remembering that she was in the middle of something kind of important.

“Hanako, I--”

“Go!” he said before he could stop himself. Before he could stop her. “Go get your plant, it’s fine!”

“I can’t just--”  Nene glanced frantically between Hanako’s face and the garden below. The rest of the gardening club had almost certainly gone home by now, so their rosemary had little hope other than Nene herself if it wanted to avoid being drowned alive. Still, she didn’t seem eager to move. “Are you sure?”

Hanako nodded fiercely as the first drops began to fall. 

“It’s fine, I don’t need another murder on my conscience. Get your plant.”  He tried to smile, but couldn’t find the heart to.

Nene hesitated only a second longer before giving a reluctant nod.

“Okay.”

Then, with no preamble to speak of, Nene threw herself around Hanako once more, leaving a ferocious peck on his cheek.  She whispered a hurried “thank you” before giving a firm squeeze. Then, just as quickly she pushed away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” she called, sprinting to the stairs, glowing brighter than he’d ever seen her. No rosemary plants would come to harm this day, and nor a single Yashiro so long as she didn’t fling herself down the stairs too hard.  Hanako wasn’t sure he could say the same for himself.

And just like that he found himself alone, burning supernova, alight with the shock of it all.  His eyes began to flood all on their own, attuned to the joy and horror that clashed inside of him in equal measure. Even as he tried to focus on the front of the school, the flood did not stop. He blinked hard, fixing his gaze on the same place as always, at the entrance where Nene would eventually appear, panting and calling at the guard to please wait just a second before closing the gate for the evening.  She’d ran into that guard a lot lately.  They’d been cutting things close lately. He’d let them cut things close.

Before long the sky tore open in earnest, but Hanako didn’t move. Even when he saw Nene at the gate, even after she was long gone, he remained affixed to the spot, soaked to the bone well before it occurred to him to become intangible.  How could he have possibly let this happen?  

He only had to wait one more day, and he couldn’t even do that much.  One more day, twenty four measly hours, and Nene would have gone to study camp and things would worked themselves out. She’d be free of him forever, completely unaware of just how much she’d gained, unaware and happy, free, and alive.  But Hanako couldn’t just give without taking, could he?  That was how these things worked, after all. There was always a price when it came to wishes.

The storm that was always brewing in Hanako’s heart was real now, raging unbidden through his body, whirling overhead and pulling the leaves from nearby trees.  Maybe he could just...not go through with it. Maybe he could stay here and Yashiro could live or die or whatever she wanted, and they could like and like and like each other all they wanted, and then...

He sniffled, stifling a sob.

No, that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? To keep being selfish. To let Nene waste all her time on somebody who had no time of their own left. To let her become tethered to this place, doomed to haunt it forever just like him. Doomed to live a wasted life and die a miserable death.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t be selfish again.  This was just how things had to be, he thought, dragging himself into the stairwell at long last. Tomorrow somebody’s time would run out, but he’d see to it that it wasn’t hers.  There was no sense in fighting it. This is just the way things are.  

And I wont spend time resenting the way things are.

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 8

November 10th, 2019

Aberdeen Bloom was in her hotel room.  

The Leafs had lost to Chicago.  Chicago scored four goals in the first period.  It was a shitshow.  And although the boys rallied back late in the third period, they just couldn’t get that fifth goal to send it into overtime and at least get a point.  William scored two goals – en route to a hat trick – but didn’t get it.  He did get third star of the game though.  Aberdeen knew he was trying to impress his parents and show off in front of his brother.

The team was spending the night in Chicago before leaving late tomorrow for Long Island, meaning that Aberdeen had the day off and could actually go and explore.  She’d never been, and she knew eight or ten hours was not nearly enough to really explore a city, but she thought about taking a city bus tour that hit all the major sites.  Truthfully, she was learning more towards just spending the entire day at the Art Institute of Chicago.  It was on her bucket list.  

After the stress of travelling and the back to back games, she was tired.  She’d taken a long, hot shower before putting on her pajamas and slipping into the hotel bathrobe.  With her hair wrapped in a towel, she ripped open a sheet mask and put it on, massaging it onto her face.  She texted Kasha, who sent her some pictures and videos of Minerva sleeping on her bed, which calmed her down but also made her wish she was curled up with her cat.  Eventually, Aberdeen lay upright in bed, trying to get some reading of Women Talking by Miriam Toews done before she fell asleep.

But then there was a light knock at her door.

She was so tired and so annoyed and so engrossed in her book that she didn’t even bother to look through the peephole to see who it was.  She forgot she was in her pajamas and bathrobe.  She forgot she had an entire sheet mask on her face that made her look like Jason.  She just opened the door, not thinking about anything.

Which made seeing William on the other side of the door all the more frightening.  

He had quite the amused look on his face.  “Hey.”

She shut the door in his face.  She turned around so her back was against the door, internally freaking out, looking around for a means of escape.  She seriously contemplated jumping out the window.  It was only eight floors – that didn’t mean too many broken bones, right?  She could…she could…

“Open the door, Aberdeen,” she could hear him from the other side, his voice low but loud enough that only she could hear.  

“No,” she said, having the wherewithal to finally rip the sheet mask off her face and shove it into the pocket of the robe.  It was still wet, damn it.  A sheet mask wasted.  

“Come on, Aberdeen.”

“What are you even doing here?” she asked.

“Would you rather Brendan find me outside your hotel room or would you rather hide me in the shower where he wouldn’t see me?” William asked rhetorically.  

Aberdeen’s heart and her mind started racing, thinking that Brendan was on the way down to her room or down the hallway or something.  She rushed to open the door and stuck her head out, looking down both ends of the hallway.  William, for his part, slipped past her and into her room.  “Is he here?!” she asked in a harsh whisper.  

“God no.  Brendan’s asleep,” William said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “It’s eleven at night, Aberdeen.  The man needs his rest.”

She looked back at him practically sauntering into her hotel room and shut the door, locking it behind her for full effect.  She crossed her arms to make herself appear angry.  William still had an amused smile on his face.  “I reiterate my question – what are you even doing here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“Weren’t you going to dinner with your parents and Alex?”

“That’s done.”

“So, like, don’t you want to spend time with your parents?”

“They have an early morning flight to catch to Dallas to visit Jackie at SMU,” he said.  “They went back to their hotel and went to bed.”

“And shouldn’t you be doing the same thing?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I wanted to see you, minskatt.”

A blush overcame her cheeks.  “Will, this is really inappropriate,” she said, trying to mask it.

“Why?”

“You’re a hockey player in my hotel room,” she felt like she had to spell everything out for him.  “If Brendan finds out he’d freak.  If Kyle or Peter found out, they’d freak.  Hell, if your teammates found out—”

“Even if they did, they wouldn’t say anything,” William interrupted her.

She stopped dead in her tracks.  That was not plausible.  Any single one of them would go to Brendan in a second if she and Will were caught together like this.  In her hotel room.  At night.  Alone.  “I have a hard time believing that.”

“They wouldn’t.  They know that I like you, so they wouldn’t.”

Aberdeen couldn’t respond with anything because she could think of anything to say.  He flummoxed her constantly.  He kept rendering her speechless and she didn’t know what to do about it – didn’t know if she could do anything about it.  She watched as he leaned against the TV stand, crossing his own arms over his chest.  “I’m asking for a third time now – what are you doing here?”

“Was that a sheet mask you had on your face before?”

“Yes.”

“For what?”

She gave him major side eye.  “Moisturizing.  The traveling is drying out my skin.”

Will let out a slight chuckle.  He looked past her towards her bed, and she followed his eyes and looked behind her.  “What book are you reading?”

Was he being serious right now?  Had he seriously made his way into her room to ask her about sheet masks and books?  Not like she’d do anything else with him.  But still.  “Women Talking by Miriam Toews.”

“Do women talk in it?”

She audibly scoffed.  “It’s about sexual assault in a Mennonite community.”

Will’s face dropped.  “Oh fuck.”  

Aberdeen couldn’t help but snort as she saw the look on his face.  She tried to cover her mouth and her smile but the attempt was futile.  He looked so embarrassed and it just brought her so much…well, delight.  “God, Will,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back to grab the book.  “You are something else.”

“You like to read, then?” he tried to recover the conversation.

“I have a major in English, Will.  And I want to become a writer.  You can’t become a writer if you don’t read.  Well I mean, you can, but you won’t be very good.  And beyond that, I’ve made it my goal to read the shortlist of the Governor General Awards and the Giller Prize,” she said.  She saw a slightly confused look on Will’s face.  “They’re Canada’s highest literary awards.  They’re like – well, not really, but you’re Swedish, so – it’s like being a Nobel Laureate, but obviously the Nobel is much more prestigious.  I read them too.”

The smile that appeared on his face was so innocent and pure that she wanted to wipe it off his face.  She couldn’t handle it.  “I remember that you want to be a writer.  You told me the first time we met,” he said.  Aberdeen shivered.  “So what are you doing here with the Leafs?”

“In my quest for any type of job, they were the only ones that called,” she informed him.  “No newspapers or magazines came calling, so it was this or bank telling.”

He pushed himself off the TV console, making his way over to sit beside her on the edge of the bed.  He looked over at her.  “I think you’d make a great writer.”

“Thanks, but you haven’t read any of my writing.”

“Can I?”

“No.”

It was Will’s turn to snort.  “Fair enough.  Maybe I’ll get to read it one day.”

“I don’t know about that,” she said, smiling down at the book as she held it between her hands, being very careful not to lose the page.  “How was dinner with your parents?” she pivoted, not wanting to talk about herself or her writing anymore.  “I bet you miss them a lot.”

William shrugged his shoulders.  “I’m kind of used to it.  When I was a kid my dad would be gone a lot.”

Aberdeen thought the worst.  “Why?”

William looked at her weirdly.  “My dad was an NHL player, Aberdeen.”  He saw the shock on her face and couldn’t help but chuckle.  “Do you not, like, google these things?”

“Why would I google your dad?  I thought he was just…I don’t know, your dad!” she tried to defend herself.  

“Well, he is just my dad—”

“But he was an NHL player,” she said.  “What team did he play for?”

“A bunch.  He was a journeyman.  Alex and I were actually born in Calgary, but then it was Tampa, Chicago, Washington, Boston, New York…then back to Washington,” William listed off the cities he’d lived in.  “It was a lot of moving around.  A lot of back and forth.  A lot of missing dad.”

Aberdeen could never imagine moving around that much as a kid.  She was very fortunate to have lived in the same house her entire life, however old and small it was.  She knew William’s life growing up was probably very nice – much nicer than hers, in the sense that he had a lot more money with his dad being an NHL player and all – but all of that couldn’t make up for missing your dad because you couldn’t actually see your dad.  The first time Aberdeen realized she actually missed her parents was the grade nine orientation retreat her school ran, when she went to a camp in Muskoka for three days and two nights and got eaten alive by mosquitos.  She couldn’t imagine that feeling happening over and over again.  And not just over and over again…but throughout her entire childhood.  “But Sweden is always home?” she asked, trying to brighten up the mood.  

“Always,” he replied automatically, resolute in his tone.  “In the summers, when we’d be all together in Sweden, and it was just…you know, family time…that was the best.  Our house in Stockholm, or our house in the countryside…it was always amazing.”

Aberdeen smiled at him.  He was so clearly fond of Sweden and fond of his family.  If their Halloween talk didn’t secure it enough, this did.  She wondered how much he missed his siblings on a regular basis; how geographically, they were so far away from each other, but in every other way they were so close.  Much like she and Siena.  She missed Siena every day.

“Hey Aberdeen?” Will’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“You haven’t kicked me out yet.”

She gave him a look.  He started chuckling at her scrunched up face, still glowing with moisturizer.  “Don’t push it.”

***

November 13th 2019

Aberdeen felt both mentally and physically exhausted as the charter plane landed in Toronto just before midnight.  The Leafs suffered another loss to the New York Islanders, John’s old team (who booed him every time he touched the puck, the savages), even though they battled back again from a goal deficit.  Will scored.  John scored too.  But it wasn’t enough.  Now, the team was officially on a three game losing streak (okay, technically only two if you didn’t count the shootout loss against Philly).  Aberdeen was just…tired.  She had the day off tomorrow to prepare for the Major Donor Dinner that night, worked Friday, and then – surprisingly – a full weekend off, since Brendan wasn’t traveling to Pittsburgh.  

To says she was looking forward to it was an understatement.  

“Who’s driving Aberdeen home?” John asked out loud as he always did when they came back from road trips late at night.  She didn’t know if he’d taken it upon himself as the team captain to spearhead the movement, but she didn’t oppose it anymore.  If they wanted to be chivalrous, she wasn’t going to stop them.  

She usually rode into the city with Morgan, with Bee picking them up.  Twice she’d gotten driven back into the city with Saylor and Kasperi.  She was fully ready to hear Morgan’s voice pipe up like it always did – especially because Bee was always on time and already waiting for them by the time they landed.  She even saw him about to say it, but he was cut off.  “I’ve got it,” Will said immediately, not even looking at her.  Morgan looked back at him, shrugging his shoulders.  That was that.  

Aberdeen noticed he drove a Volvo – of course he would, the Swede.  She put her carry-on in the trunk and slipped into the passenger seat, waving goodbye at Justin Holl who had parked beside Will and was already backing out of his space.  Will slipped into the driver’s seat, starting the car.  He looked over at her, the smallest smile on his face.  “Hey.”

“Hello.”

“You tired?” he asked.

“I’m exhausted.”

“Good,” he said, backing out of the parking spot, making his way out and onto the street.

“Good?”

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a while,” he said, a smile on his face.

She side-eyed him.  What exactly did he think they were going to get up to in his car of all places?  She was wide awake now.  “Why?”

“You always have your headphones in on the bus or plane when Brendan doesn’t need you.”

“So?”

“So it’s obvious you like music, and I’ve curated a playlist for this exact moment,” he smiled, fiddling around with his phone.  He really shouldn’t have been doing that, since he was driving and it was illegal to do so.  Aberdeen looked as he swiped through Spotify quickly, obviously knowing exactly where he needed to go.  

“What moment is that?” she asked.  

“Driving through Toronto at night,” he said, stopping at the red light.  She chuckled slightly to herself, leaning her head back on the headrest and looking out her window.  Of all the guys on the team, only Will would do something like this.  Bee never made any playlists for driving Morgan home in the middle of the night.  Hell, Saylor didn’t either.  She was more preoccupied with telling Kasperi the exact details of what she’d been up to while he was gone, or telling him where they were going to go for drinks and oysters after they dropped Aberdeen off. “You ready?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“If you put on Drake to drive through Toronto at night, Will, I swear to God…” she warned.

There was a dramatic pause.  The opening notes of Drake’s ‘Passionfruit’ played.  Aberdeen overexaggerated her scoff and disgusted face, and William’s infamous laugh was so loud it could be heard over the music.  “God, William…” she chastised playfully.

“Oh come on!  It’s a good song!” he tried to defend himself.

“It’s one of his better songs, sure.  I’ll give you that,” she said.  “But what a lousy start.”

Will’s jaw dropped.  “Oh, really?  You can think of something better?”

“I can think of a million different songs that are better,” she quipped.  She looked down at his phone sitting in the little cubby and went to grab it.  She scrolled through the list, getting more and more disgusted by the songs and artists he’d added to the playlist.  “Your taste in music is awful,” she scoffed again.

“HEY!”

“It’s true!”

“Okay Miss Superior Music Taste—”

“Okay, first of all, if you’re going to choose a Toronto artist to start a ‘driving though Toronto at night’ playlist, it should be The Weeknd,” she began, typing his name into the screen and swiping to add ‘Starboy’ and ‘I Feel It Coming’ to the playlist.  “Like, where is Tory Lanez?  Where’s Daniel Caesar?  And why is it all rappers?  This is so stereotypical.  You need better music.”

“It doesn’t just have to be people from Toronto,” he said, making a turn.  “And it’s all rappers because I li—”

“Seriously, this is awful.”

“You’re really mean when you’re exhausted,” he quipped.  

“If it doesn’t have to be just full of people from Toronto then I’m hijacking this playlist and making it good,” she ignored his comment, already swiping her fingers all over his screen and typing in name after name.  

Will would glance over occasionally, trying to keep his eyes on the road but finding it hard.  She looked so cute concentrating so hard as Passionfruit played in the background.  He bit his lip, trying to remain composed.  “God, you’re gutting that thing,” he said.

“That’s how bad it is.”

He shook his head playfully.  “You better hurry up.  Passionfruit’s almost over.”  Aberdeen finished off, keeping his phone in her lap as she let Passionfruit end.  “It better be good,” he said.

She shot him a playful glare.  “It’s awesome, thank you very much.”

As ‘Passionfruit’ ended, ‘Bride’ by San Fermin came on.  Aberdeen was immediately pulled into the sounds and beats, closing her eyes and let it wash over her.  William, on the other hand, furrowed his brows.  “What is this?”

“San Fermin.”

“Who?”

She shot him another glare – how many she’d shot him in this car ride alone, she couldn’t even say.  “Can you just listen?”

William gave it about a minute before he began shaking his head again.  “I’m sorry.  I can’t do this.”

“You’re weak.”

“Put on something good this time,” he said as she picked up the phone again.  He switched lanes to get onto the onramp for the Gardiner Expressway.  He saw Aberdeen scrolling through the playlist, finally picking a song.  ‘Green Light’ by Lorde.  “Lorde?  Really?”

“Don’t you dare say a bad word about Lorde,” she warned.  “She’s perfect.  Her music is perfect.”

“You think so?”

“She wrote Pure Heroine at sixteen.  Sixteen!” she exclaimed.  “I would give my left arm to have written like that at sixteen.  I was writing awful, pretentious poetry about stupid boys in my high school at sixteen.  And she wrote that entire album!”

William laughed, her clear enthusiasm and love of Lorde shining through in her words.  It was adorable.  She was adorable.  She was many things, but right now, she was adorable.  “Is she your favourite?” he asked.

“I have a lot of favourites,” Aberdeen admitted.  “But yeah.  She’s up there.  Do you not listen to her?”

William shrugged his shoulders.  “I know Royals.  That was the big one, right?  That’s basically it.”

“Well, you need to listen more.”

“Not the first time someone’s told me that,” he joked, keeping his eyes focused on the road.

Aberdeen bit her lip.  She knew they were in the context of talking about music and her favourite artists, but that was a loaded sentence.  When she and Brendan made their way to the locker room after the Islanders game, she could hear Mike Babcock’s voice from down the hallway.  She’d watched and listened to some of his post-game interviews, and she wasn’t completely ignorant to the fact that he constantly, constantly, backhand complimented William and his skills.  It didn’t matter if William got an assist, got one goal, even two goals – it was like Mike couldn’t say a good word about Will without undermining him somehow.  She remembered the season opener, when William told her “I’m used to it” when she asked about it.  She shifted uncomfortably in the passenger’s seat.  “Will…”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, minskatt.”

She paused to try to collect herself.  “What, like…I mean, I don’t mean to be nosey or whatever, or intrude…but what – I mean…like what kind of like—”

“Spit it out, Aberdeen.”

“What’s the issue between you and Mike Babcock?” she finally asked.  

Will looked over at her quickly, shocked that she’d asked the question.  “Hell if I knew,” he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders.  That was a lie – he did know part of it.  At least, he thought he knew part of it.  “I don’t…I…okay.  Last year,” he began, “the 2018-2019 season.  It was my contract negotiation year.  I went unsigned throughout the summer because I was holding out for a specific number and a long-term deal instead of what we call a ‘bridge’, so like a two or three year deal.  I…I didn’t want to be anywhere else but Toronto, no matter what anyone else said.  I still don’t want to be anywhere else but Toronto,” he explained.  “And so, because of that holdout, I didn’t attend training camp.  I didn’t play basically for the beginning half of the season.  There…there was a lot of drama.  A lot of rumours in the Toronto media – really nasty rumours, some of them.  A bunch of talk about trading me.  It produced this really…I don’t know, this really toxic, like, cloud surrounding me.  A lot of people were angry about it.  But I got my deal – I signed on December 1st, the last day legally possible to be able to play.”

Aberdeen thought back to what he told her about his dad.  How much Will missed him as a kid growing up because Michael would be travelling for hockey.  How much Michael was gone all the time.  How every few years, the family would have to pack up and move to a completely different city, in a completely different part of the country, following Michael on his journeyman hockey career.  Of course William wanted a long term deal.  It was no wonder.  He didn’t want to experience what he had to experience growing up – being shuffled around the league – now as an adult.  

“The media did their job though,” he continued, breaking her train of thought.  “They were relentless.  Malicious.  They turned a lot of people against me – a lot of fans who were influenced into thinking I was a spoiled Swedish brat.  Overhyped, overpaid, waste of money.  A plug.  Getting in the way of hiring a good Canadian boy, forgetting the fact that I was born in Calgary,” he almost smiled to himself, shaking his head.  “So…I don’t know.  I guess Mike didn’t get over my holdout.  Maybe he feels bitter about it.  Maybe he thinks I’m selfish, that I shouldn’t have held out.  Maybe he thinks I’m an overhyped, overpaid plug taking a spot from a good Canadian enforcer or something.  But it’s all hypothetical.  It’s all maybes.  I can’t tell you why, exactly, he always says those things.”

Aberdeen didn’t know any of this.  She didn’t know William held out on his contract.  She didn’t know there was a portion of the city that hated just him specifically.  She didn’t know about bridge deals, long term deals, and about him wanting to be in Toronto – nowhere else.  She didn’t know any of it.  And that’s when she finally realized: that was her exact problem.  This was why she kept making careless comments that made Brendan so upset.  She didn’t know anything about the team; she didn’t know anything about its members, how they got to Toronto, how they liked being here.  She didn’t know the history and barely took time to learn.

“You need to walk into this building everyday knowing and understanding the history of this hockey club beyond just the surface level and what Brendan tells you,” Kyle told her after she went crying to him like a baby.  “But you already know what to do, Aberdeen.  You just need to find it within yourself and do it.”

She needed to understand the team as an institution, but also as a group of guys creating and carrying on the legacy of that institution.  

Now she knew.

“That’s awful,” she said, considering everything he told her.  She couldn’t believe a coach would hold something like that against a player.  “You…you don’t deserve that, Will.  Any of it.”

“I know,” he said, nodding his head slightly.  “You don’t have to tell me that, minskatt.  Mike’s just…listen, he’s a good coach – a great coach.  I mean, he’s won two gold medals.  And he has a very specific system—”

“William,” she interrupted him.  He looked over at her.  “Don’t make excuses.”

He smiled at her – a true, genuine smile.  And as he did, the opening notes of ‘Style’ by Taylor Swift began to play, and a shiver ran up Aberdeen’s spine.  She had to look away – had to – because if she looked any longer at him, she would spontaneously self-combust.  That, or lean over the centre console and do something she would immediately regret.  As she looked out the front, she saw them approaching downtown – all the lights and the skyscrapers illuminating the city, and the CN Tower lit up brightly in red.  “This is my favourite drive,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“This is my favourite drive,” she repeated, speaking up.  “This…the Gardiner going into the city.  Swerving through all the buildings.  All the lights.  And this song is perfect for it.  Absolutely fucking perfect.”

William continued to smile at her, looking between her and the road as ‘Style’ continued to play.  The riff, the beat…everything was perfect.  She was busy focused on the view, and on the beat of the song, singing it lightly to herself, her voice getting above the volume of the song only minimally.  She even took out her own phone and began recording the drive and the lights, no doubt to post on Instagram later.  She looked perfect.  She was perfect, at least to him.  He needed to utilize every ounce of self-control he had in him as he continued to watch her.  “This is really hard,” he said out loud, breaking somewhat.

“What?  Listening to Taylor Swift?”

He laughed.  “No.  All I really want to do is reach across the dash and hold your hand but I know I can’t.”

She blushed, looking down at her hands instead of looking at him.  She always had a few rings on – a few dainty ones, stacked, and one her mom gave her that once belonged to her grandmother – and she began playing with them nervously.  He signalled to get off at the appropriate exit.   “Will…”

“I know, I know,” he said.  He was biting his lip down, hard, probably to stop him from saying or doing anything else.  “I’m sorry.”

The rest of their ride was silent, since it wasn’t much longer until he reached her condo.  When they finally arrived, she made sure he knew he didn’t have to get out of the car when he popped the trunk for her to get her carry-on.  She rolled it back to the passenger window.  “Thanks for the ride Will,” she smiled.

“Will I see you at the dinner tomorrow?” Will asked out the window, leaning over the centre console.

She paused for a second.  He knew about that?  She thought it was an office personnel only event.  “You’re going?”

“Of course I am,” he smiled.  

She rolled her eyes.  “Of course you are.”

“Brendan likes to shuffle some of us out as a surprise for the donors.  It’ll be me, John, Jason, and Mitch,” he explained quickly.  “So I’ll see you there?”

“Yes.  You’ll see me there.”

[musings-from-mars]

Trans!Nora and Trans!Ruby

77. First time seeing the other, or each other, naked

((Spoilers from v8ch3!))

Ruby slowly opened the door to peer into the room, seeing Nora sitting on a table, her bare back to the door. Her skin was covered in a web of red scars; almost no part of her was left untouched by electricity.

“Hey,” Ruby said as she quietly shut the door behind her. “You wanted me to help with something?”

Nora turned and looked over her shoulder, a pained smile on her face. “Hey, yeah. I...I need your help checking my new paint job,” she joked, but her laugh was dry and forced.

Ruby nodded, walking over towards her. “Of course. I’m not a medic or anything but...” She reached a hand towards Nora’s shoulder, but stopped before touching her. “Do they hurt?”

Nora shrugged. “Not really. A combination of some drugs and Jaune giving me an Aura boost has kinda made it just...annoying at the worst.” She hopped off the table. She was topless, having been applying some medicine to the scars she could reach, but getting too distracted by her own thoughts to keep it up. “I, uh...I asked for you specifically because...” She shrugged, laughing dryly again. “If I trust anyone to see my body right now, it’s you.”

Ruby nodded in understanding, a faint blush on her cheeks. “Totally.” Ruby felt flattered. She and Nora were both trans girls, the only trans girls on their teams. It wasn’t a secret, but at the same time, Ruby could relate to Nora’s desire to just be with someone like herself at a time like this. But still, she had never seen Nora with anything less than pajamas on. She���d be lying to herself if she denied having feelings for her. And Nora was very, very pretty...but it was painful to see her beautiful body covered in these scars, whether they actually were hurting her now or not.

Nora smiled, her own face pink with slight embarrassment. “Could you help me check the rest of my body?”

Ruby nodded. “Sure.” She picked up the topical medication off the table. “I can help you with your medicine, too.”

Nora nodded. “Thank you, Ruby. I...” She looked to the side, letting out a shaky breath as she undid her belt. “I...wish I told you this more. I wish I told everyone this more, but...I love you. Everything sucks right now, and...well, I’m really glad I have you all. But...especially you right now.”

Ruby smiled at her. “I love you too, Nora.”

Saying that felt amazing.

Nora took her skirt off, tossing it aside with the rest of her clothes, then started to untie her boots. Once those were off, it’s was plain to see that her scars had stretched all the way down to her ankles.

Ruby put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Nora...” She willed the tears building in her eyes to go away. “I’m so sorry.”

Nora chuckled, assuming a bashful posture, standing there in just her underwear. She covered her chest with her arms, holding her shoulders. “It’ll be okay. I mean, once they heal up, how badass will I look?”

Ruby chuckled. “Yeah. But still, you could’ve been killed by that much electricity.”

“I know,” Nora said with a sigh. “I just...I knew we had to get out of there, and I knew I was the only one who could do it. But you’re right; just because I draw power from electricity doesn’t make me immune to it.” She looked down at her lower body. “To be honest, I always knew something like this would eventually happen. I just never knew my limits.”

Ruby nodded, stepping closer to her. “Well now that you do, promise me you’ll never do that again?” She then reached up and pulled her cloak off, casting it like a table cloth on the table Nora had been sitting on.

Nora laughed. “Yeah, I don’t plan on it.” She sighed and lowered her arms, hooking her thumbs under the waistband of her underwear. “Well, prepare to see the Valkyrie booty in all its glory.”

Ruby giggled. “I’d rather have seen it under better circumstances,” she joked.

Nora rolled her eyes and tugged her underwear down. She then tried her best to look behind herself, and she groaned. “Yep. Butt scars.”

Nora indeed had more of her scars stretching along her bottom and down the backs of her legs. Ruby’s face was hot, but at the same time, she felt a pang of dread for Nora. “Gods, you really are covered in them.”

Nora sighed. “I’ll be fine.” She hopped back into the table and shrugged. “Wanna help me with my medicine, even if it’s going to be awkward?”

Ruby chuckled and nodded. “Sure. I’m fine with awkward.” She then stepped up to Nora, but she stopped before opening the container of medicine. She looked up at Nora’s face, staring at her eyes for a moment.

“Wh-what is it?” Nora asked.

“Would it be awkward if I kissed you right now?” Ruby asked. The words came out of her mouth before she even had the wherewithal to consider them.

Nora’s cheeks shifted to a shade of pink, but the faint smile on her face undeniable. “I...” Her voice trailed off, unsure what to say.

“Please,” Ruby whispered. “Please don’t put yourself in danger like that again. You...mean too much too me...”

“You know I won’t, Ruby,” Nora murmured.

“Do you promise?”

Nora leaned forward, eyes fluttering closed. “Promise.” And their lips met, soft, gentle, and fleeting.

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

Rain Song- Prolouge

So I promised myself I wouldn’t start any new stories until I worked on my pre-existing works. But...I just haven’t gotten anywhere with them creatively. I tried doing requests for one shots to spark my writers block and it didn’t work. This, however...came flowing out rather easily. So I’m going with it.

This is my first toe dip into Harry Potter. I’ve had this idea for a really long time. It will probably not follow cannon completely as I am creating an original character. But the bones remain the same.

Here’s the skinny- Sirius Black falls in love with Remus Lupin’s younger sister. Evanora Lupin-Black is a powerful Witch & Seer. (I’m kind of going with my own ideas with Seer mythology based on some HP stuff and some of my own ideas). 

Sirius and Nora have a daughter who Remus Lupin must raise after the death of his sister and the imprisonment of is brother-in-law

Let me know what you think!

You are the sunlight in my growing - So little warmth I’ve felt before 

October 31, 1981 “Remus...Remus you must take her and go! Please!” Evanora begged her big brother to take the sleeping child wrapped in her arms. She looked down at her daughter, the unfairness of the situation was palpable. She knew this was the last time she would see the most perfect thing she had ever done. She had spent the time waiting for her brother staring at a picture of her daughter and her father. She wanted the faces of the two loves of her life to be seared into her brain when the lights went out. 

“What of Sirius?” Remus couldn’t take her. She was safer with Sirius. “She should be with her father.” Remus felt a pang. Sirius had recently been keeping him at arms length. Almost two years ago he trusted Remus with the life of his daughter when he was named as her Godfather. Now...Remus didn’t know what had caused the change. Perhaps the stress of the war. The fear for his family. The fear that Voldemort would take James, Lily and Harry. Fear sowed doubt. But Nora...Nora’s faith in her brother was unwavering. It always had been. Lycanthropy be dammed. Remus knew there had been contention between his sister and his friend because of Sirius’ change in attitude. Yet Remus knew, no matter what, his sister was meant to be with Sirius Black.

 “He’s- I don’t know where he is. Please Remus. They’re coming. I won’t survive this. But she MUST. Please-“ Her voice broke as she choked back a sob. Nora had been preparing for this for months. Filling books with letters and instructions for her daughter. Pulling memories for her to see. Nora quite literally saw it all coming, yet she could say nothing. Nora couldn’t warn her husband. She tried to steer him in the right direction but his stubbornness knew no bounds. And now? Nora knew what would become of him. It broke her heart but she knew this was how it had to be. The conflict on her brothers face almost broke her resolve. She couldn't tell him about what had happened to her husband. Time would reveal all to her brother. It would be a hard road, but it was one he must travel. Her only concern could be for that of her daughter. Her survival was essential. She could only pray that the love and faith she had always instilled in her brother would be enough. He had to be strong now. They all had to be strong.

 “Nora- let me get you both to safety. I cannot leave you behind.”

 “Rem- you must. It is meant to be this way. She must be protected. I cannot follow her where she goes. To keep her safe I must stay behind. Big brother please.” He could never deny his sister. She was only a year younger than he and she had him wrapped around her finger from the moment they were old enough to know they needed each other. Remus didn’t even try to hide his tears. He reluctantly took the now almost toddler from his sister. He knew this was her end. He hated that she wouldn’t tell him more. But she never did. She would never upset the balance. She never messed with fate.

 “Nora- I...I wish we had more time.” He wanted to say so much more, but he could not find the words. 

 “Me too Rem. Tell Sirius that I loved him, until my dying breath. Tell her...”Nora couldn’t hold back her sob. 

“I’ll tell her everything. How beautiful and brave her mother was. How she loved her broken shell of a brother. How she made her father a better man. That he became the very best version of himself because of how much her mother loved him. She will know her mother’s grace and her ferocity. Her loyalness. Her ability to be all others above herself. How she was so wonderfully kind. She will know you Nora.” Nora nodded.

 “Remus. You are not a broken shell of a man. You must remember how wonderful YOU are. She will need you. Be strong for her and for me. There is- there are journals and vials. She’ll need it to learn. Remus he will be back. He will fall, but he will be back.” Remus shifted his niece to one arm and hugged his sister and kissed her forehead. 

 “I love you.”

 “I love you too brother now go!” He rushed out of the house after he threw the bags his sister had packed over his shoulder. He looked back at her one last time, she smiled through the tears in her eyes. She was always smiling. He forced himself to look away and fled. 

Once outside he disapparated from the cottage. When he reached safety, he looked down at his niece. She had slept through the entire dramatic ordeal. She was the only person who his love for rivaled that of his sister. Her dark blonde hair already cursed with the wild curls of her mother. She had Nora’s features; pale and delicate skin, full lips and long lashes. She had her mothers radiating smile that would haunt Remus for the rest of his days. But he knew when she opened her big eyes the stormy grey of his best friend would be looking back at him. She already had Sirius’ proclivity for mischief and his full barky laugh. Her laugh was a sound that Remus could never get enough of. Her innocent looks would get her out of the many corners she would undoubtedly paint herself into. She had the charm of Sirius Black pumping through her veins. 

He knew not of what happened to his best friend, he just hoped that whatever rift was between them could be mended. Remus didn’t know how Sirius would survive the loss of his sister. She had been the one to tame Sirius. While he was always  a prankster, he mellowed for her. He renounced his play boy ways for her. And while he still a shameless flirt, he began to reserve it only for Nora. He knew Sirius was a good man. When Sirius asked him permission to pursue his sister Remus had laughed. It didn’t matter what Remus had to say, it was Nora he had to convince. He gave him his blessing and wished him luck. Watching his best friend and sister fall in love was the honor of his life thus far. Now, Remus would need help to tell Sirius that the love of his life was gone and it was now up to him to protect his special child.

 He really wanted to go to Lily and James but it wasn’t possible with how they were heavily hidden. It gave Remus comfort to know that his niece would grow up loved by not only her father, but Lily and James as well. She would have Harry as a life long friend. He knew his condition would take him away from her and Sirius for stretches of time. James and Lily would help, once it was safe for them to come out of hiding. 

He looked up at the house that would offer himself and the child safety until he could figure things out. It was several stories high, slightly crooked with multiple chimneys. The only other place he could think of that would offer him refuge was The Burrow. 

He will return? Who will return? She had to have been talking of Voldemort. It didn’t make sense to him. Remus was confused. His sister, plagued with sight had painstakingly learned how to hone her gift without the help of an accomplished Seer. It was impressive. Her daughter would carry the same burden, Nora had seen it. Now it would be up to Sirius to find someone to help her, he had no idea who. Most of the Seers he knew were quacks or had a meager amount of talent compared to his sister. Remus wished he could take the power of sight from the child he loved like his own. He recalled the nightmares of Nora’s childhood and the intense headaches that had once plagued his sister. She could often see into a persons memories by touching them. She had pulled away from most until she learned how to shut that off. He didn’t want this for her child. It was different when Nora would be here to guide her. He sighed and walked towards the warm home of the Weasley family. He felt guilty for coming. While he knew the Weasley family supported the cause- they opted out as their children were so young. They had all met Arthur and Molly through Molly’s brothers who were active Order members. 

“Remus?!” Molly had heard the sound of his apparition and had run down the stairs to greet him. “Where is Nora?” She looked wide eyed at the man before her. She looked at the child in his arms. When she looked back up at the man before her, Remus’ body began to shake. Molly, alarmed scooped the little girl from his arms and ushered him into the house. He needn’t tell her what happened, she knew, but she let him speak.

 “I don’t know where Sirius is. But Nora....they came for her. They came for them both. She had me take her and she stayed behind. She said- she couldn’t follow her. If she was to survive she had to stay behind. I should have made her come. Oh God Molly. I left my sister to die.” Remus finally wailed. Molly was silent for a moment. She wanted to cry with him. She couldn’t imagine the wherewithal it took Remus to walk away from his sister. Had it not been for the girl, he would have stayed and died with her.

“She told you to take her because if she knew if she didn’t stay behind they would both be dead. You would be dead. You didn’t allow your sister to die, you’ve given your niece the chance to live.”  

“How am I going to tell Sirius?” Remus saw something pass over Molly’s face but she didn’t not share what she was thinking. There was something beneath the surface but he did not have the strength to ask. 

“Come, come inside. I’ll put the kettle in and we’ll wait. Arthur should be here soon. Let me take her up and lay her with Ronald. She can sleep and we’ll contact Dumbledore.” She patted Remus on the shoulder. She couldn’t tell him. Albus would have to be the one. She slowly walked up the stairs to her son’s room as she tried to maintain control of her emotions. She could feel her own feelings later. Remus needed them now. She stifled the feelings of loss. She laid the sweet child next to her son.

 “I am so sorry darling.” Molly took a few moments to compose herself as she looked down at her son sleeping. They were children of war and while it seemed her son would go unscathed, the beauty next to him would not be so lucky.

 Hope Euphemia Black, named for her maternal grandmother and paternal surrogate grandmother, would not know her parents. She would never know her would be Aunt and Uncle Lily and James. It would be years before she knew Harry. It would be up to Remus now to take care of her. Poor Remus, was all that Molly could think. The man who suffered and struggled all of his life lost his sister and 3 best friends in one fell swoop. Molly didn't know how Remus would take the betrayal of his brother-in-law, but it would not be good. 

Molly was pulled out of her thoughts as the clock chimed. Undoubtedly Dumbledore would have secured Harry with Lily’s sister and would soon be on his way to find Remus. Molly would just have to hold it together for now.  She closed the door quietly behind her as to not to disturb the children. As she walked down the stairs, the voice of her husband set her at ease. 

“Dumbledore is on his way Remus.” She heard the clink of a glass. Arthur must have thought Fire Whiskey more appropriate given the circumstances. “I’m so sorry about Evanora. She was quite remarkable.” 

“Her body-“ Remus couldn’t finish his sentence. “I’ve already dispatched the ministry to recover it. She will get a proper send off Remus.” Arthur was stalling, like Molly, he wanted Dumbledore to be the one to tell him about James, Peter and the fate that would be Sirius Black. Arthur knew that it would break him. Arthur barely knew the group of men and it tore him up. 

A month later...

”Remus, you can’t be serious!” Minerva was incredulous. “You’ll need our help during the full moon. You need support. You both do.” 

“We cannot stay here. She’s not safe. After what happened to Alice and Frank- I have to take her away from here. There are still Death Eaters afoot looking for Voldemort. He will return. She can’t be here when he does.” 

“This isn’t what Nora would have wanted.” Minerva could barely speak her name. She tried not to have favorite students, but Nora Lupin had enchanted all those that came in her wake. 

“NORA ISN’T HERE!” He regretted yelling as soon as the words left his mouth. She said nothing. He sat slowly and placed his head in his hands. “She entrusted her to me. Walburga is already trying to get her hands on Hope. I won’t let it happen.”

 “And what of the full moon?” Remus sighed. “Andromeda and Molly offered to help. But with the supply of Wolfsbane we should be alright.”

 “Where will you go?” Remus didn’t want to give the location away. He wanted Hope to know peace. 

“My parents bought a beach front cottage. It was Nora’s favorite place. We’ll go there. It’s beautiful and peaceful. It’s a home that Nora loved that hasn’t been tainted by the war.” “And when she turns 11?” 

Remus sighed. “Well...I have a little over 9 years to decide. I guess it will depend on how much control she has.” The idea of not having the opportunity to teach the daughter of Nora Lupin and Sirius Black was too much for Minerva. She didn’t know what caused Sirius to turn, but the boy she knew was who she decided to remember.

“Professor-“

 “I think we’ve hit the point where you can call me Minerva.” Remus smiles sheepishly.  

“Minerva- why did he do it? I cannot for the life of me piece it together. He loved my sister. He loved his daughter. How? Why?” Remus was beside himself with grief. Minerva could see the pain wearing on his features, more so than his lycanthropy ever did.

“Sirius maintains his innocence. Perhaps he was given the choice of his family or The Potters. I wish I knew. I wish I had the answers you need. Remus- you must promise me something.” Remus looked up at Minerva McGonagall and was met with tear filled eyes. “You’ll send me the occasional owl?” He nodded and she patted him on the shoulder. 

The two remained silent until the sound of Hope’s laugh came closer and closer. The sound of Sirius echoed through the corridor. Moments later in walked Albus Dumbledore carrying the happy child along with him. In her hands were all sorts of treats the Headmaster had bestowed. He knew Remus’ mind could not be changed. He also agreed that it was for the best, for now.  Remus watched as your face lit up and you reached for him. 

“Come darling, it’s time to go home.” 

“Remus.” Dumbledore stopped the tired looking man. “Remember- help will always be found at Hogwarts for those who need it.” Remus paused for a moment and nodded before heading out into the hallway. As he walked down the corridor with Hope in his arms listening to her chatter, there was one thing he felt certain about, he had no intention of bringing his niece back to Hogwarts. Perhaps he’d send her to a school abroad or he would teach her himself. His fear that the dark world that took your mother would take his Hope too.   

[seavoice]

i don’t believe in an interventionist god

Sometimes, Fate sticks you together for years. Sometimes, Fate sticks you together for half an hour.

Or — maybe, you don’t meet each other because of Fate’s best attempts to bring you together. Maybe it’s in spite of its best attempts to keep you apart.

[this IS a pjo fic, i promise. ao3 link in the title]

//

Adam didn’t have the time or emotional wherewithal for dying grandmothers.

It sounded so terrible, but it was the truth. Today had been a hard one. The transfer from Chicago to New York City had been a much needed change of pace, a welcome one, but his workload at the new hospital was so much more stressful than the last. Bigger, more reputed, and exponentially busier. It ate away all of his time and more than a fair bit of his peace of mind.

But whatever. He could take the late nights and early mornings, the incessant paging by his attendants, the neverending piles of paperwork and his Chief Resident’s pissy attitude on even the worst of days. As much as it sucked, he was the one who had signed up for this kind of life. He’d known what he was getting into the minute he’d decided to become a doctor. He had known he would spend the rest of his life paying off the student loans for med school, being bossed around by his superiors and being puked on by his poor patients. Whatever. All of that had been — to be completely cheesy, but also completely honest — a cost he had been willing to pay for a chance to save lives.

Technically, Adam had also known that death would be a tragic but inevitable part of the life he had chosen. As terrible as it was to think about it, Adam had thought about it. He would mourn the patients he lost, he would be kind to the families he broke the news to, he would not forget the losses he witnessed, he would remember each and every one of those faces and names. But at the end of it, he would pull himself up, because he had a job to do, lives to save still. He would mourn each patient, but he would not drown in grief. His seniors had warned him that growing too attached to patients was a slippery slope, a fine balance — you wanted to be kind and warm and empathetic, but losses piled up over the years. To be a good doctor, they had said, you had to be kind and you had to remember the losses, but you also had to make peace with the presence of death.

Easier said than done.

The thing was, it wasn’t even his day to be on call. He’d been covering a shift for a friend with a family emergency, and it was going to be like any other day. Draining. Tiring. But normal.

And then the kid had died.

Sweet. Twelve. Brown haired and bright eyed, and so, so sick. Cassie was her name, and her green eyes had fluttered shut bare seconds before she’d flatlined. Her parents had clutched on to each other, the mom nearly collapsing to her knees while the dad buried his face in his wife’s hair and held her up. Adam had spoken to the grieving, broken parents with steady words, and disconnected the girl from life support with steady hands, and he had filled out the paperwork with his steady handwriting, but after that he’d walked out to the reception on his break and suddenly he was no longer steady. It was like he was coming apart at the seams, and Sarah, one of his friends and fellow residents put her phone down and stared at him.

“You alright?” She asked, hand still worrying the phone cord.

“Yeah, just…” Adam closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He could still hear the parents wailing down the hallway as the senior surgeon in charge spoke to them. “You know how it is. She was — uh, very young.”

Sarah nodded in sympathy, “Cassie right? I met her during rounds when I was on Dr Freehold’s service.” She tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry, Adam.”

“It’s okay. It’s —” Adam reached into his lab coat and pulled out his beeping pager. He groaned. “Aw, shit. Room 114.”

Sarah winced. “Oh, that’s the—“

“Yeah,” Adam sighed, stuffing the pager back into his pocket. “Jack’s off today cause of the family thing, so I’m rounding with Dr Solanki. Wish me luck.”

Old. Sweet. Terminally ill, but still extremely intelligent and alert. Jack was just one of the residents on the case, not the primary attendee, but the way he’d briefed Adam about this particular patient you’d never know it.

Patient 114. She was famous throughout the hospital for her visitors. So sick, but so visibly loved, because there didn’t go a single day without her being visited by a steady stream of children, grandchildren and friends. A remarkable life led, clearly, a life full of overwhelming love.

Adam wondered, sometimes, how a life like that looked from the inside. Wondered it for himself.

He’d never be lonely, for one. For another, he’d never want anything more.

Adam wondered, sometimes, how anyone could get over the loss of a life like that.

He sighed again and read the name on the patient chart. It was a lovely name. Sarah gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and then he was off to meet Dr Solanki.

Dr Solanki waited a second for him to catch up, then she knocked on the door to Room 114. The elderly woman inside had her eyes closed, grey hair a regal cloud on the pillow. She wasn’t sleeping, she was holding herself too stiff for that. “Ma’am? Can I come in?”

The woman opened her eyes. They were sharp eyes, warm and old, but with an intelligent sparkle. They looked like storm clouds.

“Dr Solanki, hello. How are—Oh,” the woman said, moving to sit up straighter she saw Adam. She propped herself up on her pillow. “You’re the one in for Dr Jack Sullivan? He told me he had to leave for Minnesota. Something about his sister?”

Adam nodded and offered his hand. The woman had a surprisingly firm grip. No. Not firm, strong. A President’s handshake. A football team captain’s handshake.

“I’m Dr Tartal,” Adam said, pushing a smile on to his face. He gestured to his clipboard. “I’ve been brought up to speed on your case—“

“Oh, it’s hopeless isn’t it?” The woman laughed gently at Adam’s inability to school his features fast enough. “Ah, I’m sorry, that was blunt. But I’m quite familiar with my disease and the odds, you see. It’s pretty hopeless. There’s not much to do.” She looked at Dr Solanki. “You’d agree, wouldn’t you, Dr Solanki?”

Dr Solanki smiled politely. Patient 114’s illness was not one with a full-stop cure, and they all knew it. It was a smile Adam knew well, a common shorthand for doctors everywhere— yes, for all practicality, but not technically. While medicine was a lot about practicality, patient care was about technicalities. And tact. “There are still many options for—“

“Dr Solanki doesn’t believe in death,” the woman told him. “She doesn’t believe in my death, specifically. There’s always more options for her.” She said it with a distinct fondness; she and Dr Solanki shared a small, familiar smile. “But, alright. I’ll look into your options, Dr Solanki. You have given me months more than my prognosis ever promised.”

Dr Solanki nodded. “The nurse was here to take the temperature earlier, I believe?”

“Yes, I was running a fever, but it broke.” She pointed to Adam. “This one is shaping up to be a good doctor? As good as Dr Sullivan?”

“Dr Tartal is one of our most promising residents,” Dr Solanki said. “You are in very good hands.” She inclined her head. “I’ll get you the relevant literature, and I’ll come in to explain the treatment plan. Have a good day, ma’am.”

“You too, Doctor,” the woman said. “Thank you for everything.”

Dr Solanki shook the woman’s hand, and then with a nod at Adam, she left the room. Adam gave his chart one last once-over and was just about to take his leave as well when the woman fell back with a weary sigh, blowing a strand of grey hair from her face.

“Dr Solanki,” she began, “is the very, very best. I quite literally owe her my life. But there is no hope.”

Adam didn’t say anything. This was the most difficult part of being a doctor, these conversations. No protocol, no training. It wasn’t so much about being a doctor in these moments than it was about being a human. And there was no school for that, no degree.

Good thing, though, Adam thought wryly. He was already drowning in student debt. He didn’t want to tempt Fate, or the American education system.

“I’m not sure if I’ll even make it through the night, to be honest,” the woman said. She closed her eyes. “Gods, I don’t want to die, but I really am so tired.”

Adam still didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry for unloading this on you,” the woman said at last. “Dr Tartal was it?”

This at least Adam could formulate a response to. “Yes,” he said. “And it’s alright. I don’t mind.”

“My children are running late today,” the woman said. “Weekday, you know. It’s fine, really. I’m glad. They have their own lives, and I’m glad my constant nagging them about that fact has finally gone through their heads. They’ll be here later. But this sudden silence...it’s weird.” She let out a weak chuckle and opened her eyes. “I’ve grown so used to all their overwhelming love, I’ve become greedy. I’ve not been so lonely in a while. I don’t really remember how to be.”

A look inside. Adam had wondered.

“Can you keep me some company?” The woman said. “Of course, only if you aren’t busy. I get that as a doctor—“

“It’s okay,” Adam said. He could spare a moment. The woman reminded him of his grandmother in a way, and how lonely she’d been those final weeks, wasting away in a nursing home on the other side of the country. He drew a chair and sat down next to the bed. “Unless I get paged for an emergency, I can stay.”

“I cannot thank you enough,” the woman said. “I just—I do not want to be alone, now.” She sighed. “Really, I’m lucky,” she said. “Not many get the loving family I have. Believe me, I would know.”

“Is it just your children?” Adam asked. He felt the tips of his ears burn a second later. He was being too forward with this patient. He tried to backtrack. “I mean—“

“My husband passed away ten years ago,” the woman said. Her eyes held a glimmer of sadness, but mainly she seemed amused at Adam’s flustering. “It’s alright, Dr Tartal. I was the one who asked you to stay and keep me company.”

“Has it been terrible?”

“Sad,” she said, “yes. Painful. But we had seen too many of our friends die too early to not take each day for the gift it is. He was seventy. It was a long, good life.”

Adam nodded.

“We built something permanent in our time together,” she said firmly. She wasn’t talking to him now, not exactly. Her eyes were far away. Far away from this hospital room. Far away from now. “Something that will outlast us.”

“That’s—“ Adam struggled to find suitable words. This wasn’t unusual really—people were more willing to share their life stories at the end of their time. It didn’t really make it easier for Adam to react though. “That’s really good,” he finished lamely.

The woman didn’t seem to mind. She was silent for a few moments longer, eyes a million miles away, a million years away.

“Enough about me,” the woman said at last. “Let’s hear about you. You’re from New York?”

“Chicago actually,” Adam said. “Moved here last December.”

“And you like it here?”

“Hm. It’s…” A new start, Adam thought. A new place to call home. He’d worn out Chicago—Chicago with his parents who didn’t speak to each other, Chicago with his old school that had given him nothing to miss, his old hospital that had given him nothing to stay for, Chicago which was much, much bigger than him, but now felt like a glove that pinched his fingers when he wrestled it on, a place he’d outgrown and had to be left behind. “It’s happening,” he settled on. He let out a self-conscious laugh. “I mean, it’s New York. It’s happening. It’s cool.”

“Yeah, I bet. I’m not from New York originally either. But my husband was. Loved it with every fibre of his being. I do too. It’s where I found my home. My family.” The woman weaved her fingers together and looked down. When she looked up, she met his eyes with a tired, knowing expression. “It’s happening certainly. City of the gods, isn’t it?”

That was a strange way to put it, but Adam didn’t say anything. New Yorkers were fiercely and loudly proud of their city—city of the gods wasn’t really the most egotistical or absurd of claims, to be honest. More than a couple of his colleagues had called it “the greatest city in America”, a few even going as far as to say “the greatest city in the world”. Adam didn’t really have anything against the city, or in fact the claim, but he thought that was perhaps a little too bold and presumptuous of his friends, considering that hadn’t lived anywhere else.

“Forgive me if this question is too repetitive,” the woman said. She laughed. “Or too much of your classic “old grandmother you meet at a wedding” question. But I have to always ask, I’m so intrigued; medicine is a gruelling career. What made you choose it?”

A flash of green eyes. Sweet smile. A sob bursting forth as the mother went crashing to the floor, her husband’s arms reaching out to catch her even as tears slipped down his own face. Twelve years old written on a death certificate.

Gruelling was an understatement.

Adam himself wondered why he had chosen it some times.

At first it had been easy to explain—you said I’m going to be a doctor, and people didn’t interrogate you on the hows and whys. They congratulated you, clapped you on the back, went here’s a promising young man! A noble profession! Throughout med school he’d had his reasons, recited carefully to fortify himself during the hardest all-nighters: a good stable job, a way to help people, an interesting profession. It was a fascinating subject to study. It was a noble job, one that could save lives.

And then he had become a doctor. Those reasons shifted and changed, and some days it was worth it. Some days not so much. Everyday it was different.

Today it was this—to see that there were no more Cassies. No more signed death certificates for twelve year olds. No more mothers collapsing to their knees on hospital floors, no more fathers breaking down next to them.

It wasn’t a possible wish, a probable reason. You couldn’t wipe away every tear from every eye, and you could not save every sick child you treated.

It didn’t mean he could not try, however.

That was what it had become for Adam. Trying.

But he didn’t know how to put it in a way that felt impersonal, that didn’t feel naïve and corny, in a way that felt like he wasn’t unloading his deepest wishes on essentially a stranger. So instead he just tried to fix a grin and said, lightly, “Well, I had the scores. And I’ve always liked pushing myself.” This wasn’t the complete truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. And it was enough for a woman he had just met.

The woman seemed to accept the answer. She closed her eyes. “I guess that’s fair enough,” she said. “An ambitious young man.”

That was a way to put it.

“Do you believe in any afterlife?”

Adam shrugged, “Not really sure? Maybe not. My family’s never been big on religion, or God or anything, so that wasn’t really something I’ve thought about.” He paused. “I’m willing to be proved wrong though. After.”

The woman chuckled. “Yeah? Open mind.”

“It would be more interesting than total oblivion, that’s for sure. Do, uh, do you believe? In any afterlife?”

The woman’s hands were clasped tight in her lap. Her good humour seemed to have been replaced by a sudden and jarring sadness, but it didn’t rattle Adam as much as he would have thought. There was something else shining through the sadness, a quiet but ferocious hope that laced her words. “Yes,” she said. “The Underworld.”

Adam’s first thought was underground crime circle, exhilarating despite himself. It was surprising to imagine this woman as part of any crime ring, but it would make a good story for sure. Then he remembered the grainily illustrated “Greek Mythology For Kids!” he had had in his childhood, a birthday gift from a well-meaning aunt who lived too far away and visited far too rarely to get to know his real interests. Adam has only flipped through it once half-heartedly before it had been lost or torn or given away, but he remembered the crude sketch of a dark cavern. Hades it had said. Greek afterlife.

This was probably weirder than the crime ring. But he’d met people with weirder stories. Weirder dreams and hopes. So what if this sweet old woman believed in the Greek underworld? He wasn’t one to pass judgement on people’s beliefs.

And as the people here were fond of saying of the city’s eccentricity—this was New York, after all.

“Hades?” Adam asked.

The woman’s eyes brightened. “You’re familiar?”

“Not really,” Adam said. “But I’ve heard. We all learn Greek myths in school right? Like Icarus, the Orpheus guy…” It has just been a unit in History, to be honest, learnt alongside other cultural tales from around the world. But the woman was alert now. “Something about a cave? Or was it a pit?”

The woman’s face did something complicated, a shadow, a shutter. It was gone as quickly as it came, but some of the hollowness remained in her eyes. “The pit...you mean Tartarus. That’s—well that’s part of the Greek underworld for sure, but not all of it. It’s hell.”

Adam hadn’t signed up for an impromptu Greek mythology lesson, but he guessed he was here now. “Sounds dark.”

The woman didn’t answer.

This was getting weird. Adam hurried on quickly. “Well, if this Tar place is hell, where’s the...heaven? Heaven equivalent? Like, where do the good guys go?”

“Elysium,” The woman said, looking grateful for the sudden change in subject. “The Elysian Fields.”

“The Elysian Fields,” Adam repeated. It had a ring to it, he had to admit. “Sounds—um, very peaceful.”

The woman simply smiled.

“You must really love your colleague if you’re willing to cover their extra shifts.It being Christmas season and your residency and all that. You must be busy already.”

Adam tried not to frown at the woman’s words. It wasn’t like she was wrong—Adam did love his colleagues, they had been through a lot together. Jack was a good friend, his best if he had to pick. But also, it was just one shift. That wasn’t a blood pact. That was a decent thing to do.

Adam played it off with a forced laugh. “Yeah. Basically family.”

Another moment of abrupt silence.

“That’s an important promise to keep,” the woman said. “Family.”

Okay, now Adam really was confused. He loved his friends like family, but it had been—in all practical ways—a throwaway line.

Sure, it was the most common vein of conversation he’d heard from dying patients, especially the elderly ones. Unsolicited pieces of advice. Family is everything, one man had told him last year, and Adam had grit his teeth and nodded, even though the word family had brought him the memory of his mother crying at him on the phone about his father’s new girlfriend. Young kids like you don’t know how much family means till you start losing then. Well, sometimes people didn’t have them in the first place. Never give up on family. Never. That was advice that only worked if everyone followed it. Often, it was just one person dragging them onto a capsized lifeboat. Adam had dismissed most of the well-meaning advice. It was advice for happy, loving homes, for happy, loving families. Blood and water.

But as much as the woman’s words rankled him, there was a hint of something else, a sort of understanding, in her words. He didn’t think she meant family as in blood. As in parents.

Adam swallowed down the bad feeling and said pleasantly, “I’ll do my best.”

“Sometimes the best isn’t enough.” For some reason, the woman’s eyes looked watery. Oh no. Oh no. Adam didn’t know how to approach this.

Luckily, the woman blinked her eyes and the tear was gone. A trick of the light.

“You will keep your promise,” the woman told him, with a sort of finality. “I know that.”

She offered him her hand. Adam hesitated only a moment before taking it. It was a cold and calloused hand, smelling faintly of eucalyptus oil.

“I don’t think I have much time left,” the woman admitted. “I’ve lived a long life. Longer than I ever thought I would get. I hope I’ve lived a good one.”

Adam didn’t trust himself to speak.

In a day full of weird, slightly off comments from the woman, these were probably the most normal words she’d spoken. Yet, they unwound him like nothing else till then had. Adam had sat with patients as they had died, had comforted them in their worst moments. He had grown used to the losses, the way you grew used to other unbearable things—you were alive, and so you bore them, because there was nothing else to do.

This felt different. All deaths were sad, but something in the woman’s touch was familiar. This felt less like sadness and more like quiet devastation. It was a tilting feeling. He had not known this woman for even an hour.

He tried to keep his tone light. “So, the aim is to make it to these Elysian Fields?”

“There’s another part of this Underworld I didn’t tell you about. Isles of the Blest,” she said. “Rebirth. I think...I’ll try thrice.”

Despite himself, Adam felt himself smiling. “Overachiever.”

The woman’s smile was worn out. “But not yet. I want to meet some people first. I want to see my husband. I’ve missed him. More than—more than I thought ever possible, and I thought every possibility, believe me. I want to see some old friends.”

The hollow, slow devastation persisted. It wasn’t unbearable, because nothing truly was, but it was a burning in his stomach. A dull ache. This was not the worst thing to happen to him, this old stranger’s death, but he could feel a weight press on him anyway, a weight like lead on his shoulders, a weight like lead in his stomach.

He wasn’t sure what else to say, but it turned out that was alright, because the next moment the door flung open. “Mom? Hey, I’m sorry we’re late. We got caught up—“

“Grandma!” A small blur of blond hair flew past him in their hurry to jump into the woman’s arms. She obliged for her part, a beaming smile on her face as she lifted her granddaughter into her lap.

“Don’t trouble Grandma,” a young lady wearing a work shirt said, coming to stand by the bed. She caught sight of Adam and gave him a small, kindly smile. “Oh, are you the new doctor?”

“Yes,” Adam replied. He got to his feet. It seemed his use as company was done. He turned to the old woman and tried to smile as genuinely as he could. “It was nice acquainting myself with you, ma’am. I’ll see you tomorrow on rounds. Have a lovely day with your family.”

“Thank you, Dr Tartal,” the woman said. Her grey eyes looked luminous as she smiled, crinkled with laugh lines. “It was nice to see you again.”

It was a jarring second in a day full of jarring seconds, but for one moment he held her gaze, and she looked—familiar. It was only a moment, right before her attention was grabbed by her granddaughter tugging on her shoulder as she began to narrate an incident from her school, but it was a buffering moment. The woman looked quite young caught in it, grey eyes and greying blonde hair that curled like a princess’s and a smile that ached with familiarity. It was gone with a shift of the light.

Adam shook it out of his mind, the weird sense of déjà vu of meeting her eyes, but he couldn’t shake off the way she seemed to have tripped over his name on its way out from her mouth. The way she seemingly swapped some other name for Dr Tartal at the last minute, a last chance at catching herself.

He couldn’t shake off the way she had said nice to see you. The way she seemed to have been unable to catch herself tacking on that “again” to the end of it.

——

Two weeks later

Adam saw it in Jack’s walk. He saw it in the way Dr Solanki hurried past them into the bathroom, eyes red.

It was a strange sort of grief, mourning for a stranger essentially, but regardless, it hit him like a freight train.

“Oh,” Adam said, as Jack met his eyes and gave him a desolate shake of his head. “Oh, God. Man, I’m so sorry—“

“Thank you.” Jack’s voice was heavy. He sighed and came to join Adam at the nurse’s station in front of the OR Board. His friend closed his eyes. “Everyone knew—“ Jack cleared his throat. “We knew there was a risk. She knew there was a risk when she agreed to the surgery. Eighty years, it was always—“ He shook his head. “I have to go tell the family.”

Adam nodded. “Of course.” He clasped Jack’s shoulder as his mind wandered to the small blonde girl who’d been hefted into her grandma’s lap. The sizable entourage of visitors who trailed into Room 114 day after day. The eyes of the old woman, intelligent and alert as she held his hand on the shift he’d covered for Jack, the one day he’d spoken to her. A single hour.

A single hour with her had apparently been enough to make a mark on him.

Adam watched as Jack made the slow, lonely walk to the waiting room. Then he sighed, closed his eyes for a quick moment and went back to his chart. He had paperwork to finish, three patients left on his rounds to visit, and then the clinic. It was going to be a long day.

Thirty minutes later, he was well into his second pile of paperwork when there was a slight shuffle of feet. Adam looked up.

A young girl, maybe fifteen, sixteen, stood still in front of the OR board, electric blue eyes scanning the names. She had a silver jacket on, accessorised with buttons for bands that had lost relevance in Adam’s father’s time, bands that were now only listened to by edgy teenagers rediscovering “real” music and nostalgic old folks with YouTube accounts. Her hair was spiky, streaked blue and white.

The girl tore her eyes away from the OR board just as Adam opened his mouth to ask her if she was alright. She looked taken aback for a moment.

“Can I help you?” Adam asked.

“I’m Thalia Grace,” the girl said after a pause. “I’m looking for a woman in Room, uh—“ she put her hand in her pocket to pull out a hastily scribbled note. “Room 114? She had surgery today—“

“Oh.” Adam put his pen down. He could feel his chest constricting. Was this another granddaughter? “Oh. Um, Thalia—Thalia was it?—are your parents around? You may want to sit down fo this.”

“Oh gods,” Thalia said. “Oh gods, did—the surgery didn’t go well, did it?”

Adam didn’t have the details. “Look, I will be back with someone to explain it for you—“

“No, that’s—that’s fine, that’s…” Thalia looked like she’d been hit. “Are you sure it’s the patient in Room 114, her name—“

“Annabeth Chase passed away earlier this morning, I’m afraid,” Adam said. “There were complications in her surgery.”

Thalia seemed to wilt like a flower. No—not wilt. Sink.

“Let me get you to a place you can sit,” Adam said, moving to guide her to the waiting room. “Is there anything I can do for you? A glass of water? Can I call somebody for you?”

The girl shook her head, moving away. “No. No, it’s…” She blinked and looked up at him. “Time is weird,” she said, sounding much older than a teenager. “Time is weird. I always think I have so much more time than I do. I didn’t think—I didn’t think it would happen today.” She swallowed. She looked stunned. “It doesn’t—it doesn’t really ever get easier.”

Adam could understand very little of what the girl was saying, but he nodded anyway. “Okay. Alright.”

The girl was shaking like a leaf. Adam watched her for a few seconds before realising he had to get someone—preferably Dr Solanki or Jack—to talk to this girl about Mrs Chase. No, Mrs Jackson-Chase. That was what had been on her chart.

Eventually though, the girl stopped trembling. She looked at her feet for a long, long time before her head snapped up and found his eyes. It was a thousand yard stare. It went through him. It went through him and then all of a sudden, it was no longer going through him, but was instead very, very intense.

More staring. More silence.

Adam wasn’t wholly unused to the staring. He didn’t even mind it all that much now, to be honest, even though he hadn’t been a fan of it in middle school. He had unique eyes—pretty, his mother often had said. Heterochromia, a strange yet alluring variant which gave him one eye blue and one eye a hazel that looked gold in the right light. There wasn’t anything more interesting about his face apart from that; he looked like your average twenty-something year old, with his sandy blond hair and easy smile. The only other thing uncanny about his appearance was the odd birthmark that stretched out under his right eye—a dark jagged mark, somewhat a line. But it wasn’t very noticeable unless you knew to look for it.

“Everything alright?” Adam asked.

“Yeah,” Thalia said. She didn’t shift her gaze away. “Yeah—you just...you just remind me of an old friend, that’s all.”

[libidomechanica]

Back to

A ballad sequence

               1

That my Muse and most fine gold-dusted     like a very large a school, and make in a folding     a whirlwind: then he spake the four windows runnels pebbles     the life of milk. Best-nature messenger tips; and them born     idiot doth it dearly!

All the room to and limb the     ware not the bird cold, could weary be, as we do for one?     Who still God! I’ll rather self-destroy the cry: so stood the     heart, and trees and, wan, and dances, of memory: fair creature,     branched with affrighter

that is the open field witness     honeycombs; our times in hell he find to the shall fear my     jewels being a thousand meet that’s asymptotic to     deceives, and heavy golden honey-feel of tumbling before     me? We are now a

heart that … felt like the length of noble     nature in October, that these are twins he seem’d the     rose was but half to place, for the west unfauld hear planets     all other the shall see; it hangs still with his whelpless ways,     that I have made the love

unacquaintance made a throng. The     gold, of foreign eye, and did mine had left off my count the     new name it would it lying strengthened me, as weak for not     so that ye stirr’d There those two women gather crutches, and     Wooll, invents new begun

to wash offended; but let you     see the fair, so you once, than young ye ken; the pity as     men to my sun that I have falling several sheep. Like     a length, to be, my undefiled in a close, they see     return I take: for Stella,

whose fairest-blossoming a     kind of her white. To dream had got the gradations heire thy     selfe-felt disguis’d demon, must and lull’d along tunes and call’d     Salámán fell short of time wherewith that dwells in my     body I love shall I

wish toy, and strook. Of flowers and     the break, while it travelling something of the dark heart is like     me too sooner heard your mother sues: see her I’ll lingers     on the Sun. There let fall from a tale, left our laws are broke     a genial warmth and launce

guided so wilderness: but Ida     stood, this great blightened each would cry where longer, strove.     By a freshly into a woman even should lovers     look up at the spann’d the rock,—’mong who still lingering here; I     know pining til the town

of self-love possess’d, we shall women     receives not stay with the stretched! When from themselves? Because     you it was broke with the afternoon, a faintly make our     praise, richly redolent: the side of grief he fled; and soul     failed exhalation marks.

               2

And the silent: for our search of     hay new-built a music to this manners home into words     were a rubber/gasoline

sand architraves; the mart when     the meal. I will builded for fear such sweet moan. Until you,     of brass, and then you saw’st,

into a woman God did make     me most night a Paphian dove an end. If in fauour creeping     fish; the space I taste, my

under look upon thine own blows     did falls, for the wind our good. My beloved, let me give     you most she did meet them,

like a river take heede; by no     friends, like a pulse, aught him even to make glad as she’s milking     since Faire is the gloom

on his feather side; No, then they     master. Hats and there bow’d down every private place. I long,     lovely length! While often

look’d up: a constancy and call     vertue bends to him. Head of her white, and Desire thy     remember. There in the land

she looks; to counter toyed suppose     we joints of Hungarians undefiled of Gertrude     Stein. Dead religious sends

of such a grain is just revel;     and each others wings, or speaking to the light is the little     thing, fire to rest me

props up scared nor knew till has close     by, began to famous executioner of a bell     to me, my dove, my deadly

yellow spleen. It does their loss     of the red the shadows of ease, by your chestnut colour     cheekbone, explosive vowed.

               3

Nectar from the child! Swept far from     our had thee to spurn in early song again. Durst not the     beryl: his court others

in the roof and me. The write, who     always, alway his arm- chair? So many a secret trust,     enjoy’d no sooner had

a heaven, nor alone. Of you.     And it is poetry with all the First I wanderings     for often looked out a

shouldn’t see the clay that are circumstance     only one hand in her bosom take. Yet, like Horace     and how he comfort Him.

               4

Such like her, Prince. How that dismal     lyrical beautiful, and remember you pass long I     will reason is not in

The Sage. Have put in evening, the     leaves stuck in my fault but gods decreed its bodily     tenement. Many time on

me, till my soul is death? Wealth, had     eyes—but there. Delight as Circe’s warmth and small, but unto     her on her this robbery

had hid away she gazed till     at ocean with delay, and weel his happiness, we fell     with gilded shirt is no

spot where is our tree the Nose a     May-lady treated and wears; dropt in his happier air:     a moment’s mouth to an

heart, how the king. Neither hair: do     you are faithful to say I have her wish is unto     Abydos, there by waning

of the vice preserved was almost     a prisoner, when the world, the contradiction’s paws, and the     mildly and suffer and

to concealed innocent arms to     hold me still the great son of Dryope, to make me; french to bow,     from jagged woods! Before that

seems I see a lady there the     ruby, pearl, and for each lily, There she crickets celebrate     life you talked with famine

still were narrow is not but     once again. But I adore my own couch, Wit mixtures, Heaven     stood the breathing I

saw not from which do breast, when     flowerets from the Return of that every purl there to give     me no more they become

a part from my peers; poets, that     ye maun drink upon thy refused it: Pretty country he     is a malformation

and on their promised strangled, where     to wondrous fruits, new and it is the pleasant hues of her     mind. Making in the peach

puree, our Gipsy-Scholar, was     fair a chorus sang: You need course can resist because I     could wondered grief makes you

that you please and thee, myself my     prayers; my mother. Blood and left so destroy, and ruddy     cheek; and mumbled out, but

with a tender his children garland     followed you close her eyes their even more white sheep their     earth devour heard my

neck. Lost, unhealthier brauely     euerywhere again when the silver bugle, and therefore rude     Cumner grown yew tree, and

they know a street single life, was     my objects, thou now, either and cinnamon, with grey; I     feel for my soul once again

I’ll take; she cannot help the     grave, but once, and franchises, has tantalized me dead. I     have been faire, how he this

knees most implore the drew a mortal     fame, there left the—sun My heart to do he know, for she     wall for she’s mighty men.

               5

Full of the Cape. Drunk my love not—     to make in the approve against my head spotlit. I lay     on conditionly, therefore

breeze has drinking is alive     and this chamber thy lips. Moon and green contemn, nor lies     anyway—from shore, though love.

There are nurtured like a bowl of     apples: for the children and till by yours, or crouching replied,     and change, and I sat

content too. Her eye; but once more!     My turf, and seal’d there, his sin the world and round you silent     sympathy, universe,

active Intelligence, the view;     else than the South, a witless flee away from Beauty in     that would leave a footprints,

glistered catalepsy’. I     loved gone, explosive vowels, gifts, to stray from jagged precious     multitude that, mething was

changed. Enough—The wretches be, and     all wear a picture of death; jealous in the other than     for miles above and

added supple me, and there willow     to each, till she kissed against this captains of drifting     in the middle of the

little, and owlet pinions stared     he on’t, and Desire— the Sensual Abyss, under     you’re a rubber dinghy.

               6

Me, day before. Against it: such     as sat listless shall but mark of Nature is bloodletting     my grief and casting a

young, so gentleman from summers     back to the Rust Belt mode— work hard to me this not vnsweet, tore     the seams and in her Delight,

and let our street loves, the Winter     a storm when first—light nearer than is in the eyes! Now     fired, or wise for speech

is very where, at once, in smoothly     steal away the world, or else things good-bye down approved,     whence their pathways to prey.

               7

To her, and scent, no truth, this middle     of the vales of the day, the sun’s rich. Dread out off mildews,     and such warm, humid

the listened bell of silver, through     such rites or coffee ought near and half-self, longs for what seems     I heard heart of the morning

my knots, yet being so     charitable echoes break the yacht to her fast. Be still those     handed in a poet

sublimer that an unco wae,     to the growing various did teaze with country folks of     your field, each, to the place

today when snouted up, intently     sways at every band to the fooles hire though silence     the motions of the features!

But you more? Can telling. Even     knows well with wrath, and chestnut colour, Ah, be among     thornless is, and icicles.

What were soft splendid strength and     as well! The raft branches: who can tell you were crackers! Longing     to be that I do

hear it I promising days’ sweet     musicke, sweetnesse, eternal evenings mystery of lightless     arm; time aloud their

praise to me, my soul wits, thou now?     Making thumbnail—brined again: they look at the turned in     a Prayer, give to slur

with quill and pawed his room into     o’er-praises are nothing backward and listening in the house     in one knee; whereat Pan!

So she is a pastoral ways,     until I not felt hear of thou art or else unlighten     that each green lollipops.

How farewell; such cheere thou will go     up from its knot in The Sage. And now she like a face her     down, sir. Hands and a star

into the South, darkening to the     boats and a while it thereby, yet but love you because it’s     one for at a time I

scarce lesser sin that my face that     is in my love your cheeks, and my brethren, bleating to     underness: but if so become

soon as he past. Come to thee,     divine, and all them round a solemn feasted Pallas for     me! You still, with than such

as the other. Sweet break, and cross     a language, and ambergris; and in his was some back, but     still them smelling step of

words? But high window looking novel,     nothing them. Yet on his next is like her, not Briton;     here lie bruises and the

stars in the walls so clear to me     this body hers like that way, her iron gauntlets: breathing     in yours, wings, all along.

               8

Like two young unborn, to state beds.     Piping and the Mind grown; all his voice, we will see it from     heaved fig trees. So on she

gazed there abundantly, waking     sight; but shooting, and surrender height as Circe’s wand to     languish, we changed my name.

For not so that are never can     we from me, stood the day was awake, O northern blasting     in earth and spread, though lectures

because you silent ears for     me, I will be true, and all heart. A shoebox. That light has     madmen’s eyes I was

nothingness, an old man, she would say,     and to tie me deare Monument: and made ye white neck, like     pillars of shepherds in

spring wherein the dead? Our Ida     has a crush her heart I fear, flattery? But soon to     the sea shout from thence, or

there is a birth: be still the     uncertain pined a lively pretty bud!—Why you spoke, and shot     a sharper sense not for

him came love of either side, and     not see, far as the skies chance: Is this speech, or blushing from     my beloved me many,

died ere he herds their fruits. Nor     for thy temples bind; and, with bloom’d trees, a song of the glassy     water your brain in

the towers of Jerusalem,     terrible! Would none self to aught thee how it care, and to     gain her tender noticed

you to call, and began. On credit:     Like displaces its picture of that just needs must never     noticed tea, somewhere

those who wish, save from which we should     slip through Turner’s tender her heart of gold? More self-loving     us to tread, and if

such as she have you shuffle your     mind. To the lion’s fate; all loll around goblet: she doth     fall? Of silver at the

Canadian sideways would shower,     and red for those sterved was subject to nestle things     one for a lone luxury,

unless your voice a wonder     bay? My heart, I seek it too much more she and dive in a     still in the summers back

from a certainty, fidelity?     Of human on a diamond, my love; behold you mine.     Like him laid enchanted

gazer’s mind; I thoughts my weak to     you with so dull you tried in. Long so charge us? So all     heart’s part from skirtful of

May, as do tie her eye. I’ll serve     the only greet it, and pull heavens high and groups under     music, our mother’s steel

temperate now. Every whizzing     of my life was not Ganymede, and half an hour wide     ” Come, my fork, my motion.

               9

Then have reliefe: but, fool, seeking was … the true; and     heavy golden lightning shepherds to eke out rapture’s sweet with your slumberous     phantasm, could that sweetness our forehead

of moths. Steal thy shadows run gurgling Hermes, and     on them, like, by some deer’s train divine Perfect musicke, sweet: and my great his room into     her! And too so young, keep this though the

brine. Back to the Rust Belt mode—work hard, have sailor     helped us down.—Beneath fluorescent of mortal! To whose cooling chid! And vows and o’er-     flowing, day, and chest with a suddenly

story. To make leap up with blossom, as     understand: through the smooth as she was once, all the curb, you shuffle your eyes, and half a kind     of snow; even such cherubins as

the twins, and impulse: and light that all. For so that     lay best thou art a girl, funnygirl and she wish’d, less or more thread thy pregnant lips parting     in duty dost fond tongue fault but

live moments? Its ease, your eyes to my blue with     avarice. I think I’m different nor sleepy one, when thou hast brought not yet the flowers burn     and she was they laid; and tree, for loves

I have put it on them selues that now. To broodest     o’er close by, began that I shall not bite. Not so; not come incess: she drops like a     room to give to fight with the shalt win.

               10

I rose in my dream? He would sit     neat, himself the lore she stiff procession-—swung a shaft, and     my myrrh. With his wings, but

because the eye loved, and saw a     fairy light say, closed eyes— so haggard and she what I never     be the rivers seem

high stars, the lobes of saddest,—I     lay thing, at everything them, like a rope. Ask me nourished,     that is bound us as

if he be fairest charm of their     sun. And state shall life against a glance is now about this     next years old; and tree, under

moved as one day, O cursed him,     and o’er-power’d in the grass and one that wild as she was     the Park. Long since Juliana

came, heavily against     the cooler side of the leave his merchandized whose two     foes about the painted.

               11

In silence and from heaven in     her dying round of two gold from heaven knows; yet no take     him in the base them more,

our Scholar of ever after     lifting its harp and sparrows warm, humid the Pope is lost     like you wait out there, at

lean heaved fig tree, are gone thieving     the heart, will be like a cavern springs with the sky but     from my nest, as fancy

to run; at night, vision Venus’     glass blocked their fellow grounds, ah! Is it dear, rose-cheeked Adonis,     the Tree, while and player.

To-morrow and after thirling     over hollows in the cared her and hillocks of lingers     on and enamoured.

When I make me thither will.     My speech her: as forsaken our laws of hope to whereon,     my tears. I can thine he

had a willow the point you a     dunce, Towne followed: so that the other Sestos to begins     to the painter is our

Universal love your thought; now     should embrace the vale. While I yet deceive. So I can’t compete.     The moon in the rough.

               12

Dead who wish, I will remember.     Have pray your Highness die. Some wee thine own self-possesse? I     am tired their lovely

to the river durst not what     a wee, and to come life, these valleys, and wealth came back. To     save the lips derive honey,

and therefore unto the throws     upon her eyes all the Northern counsel love? A template     after for the field a

sister’s gone. Some of conversations     or people ignoring it should started to screams from     his sweetnesse, eternal

whispers lovers hang from whose loved     among these slope I trace thee the little Mercury, for     the other and mine eyes

make. Which comes once, alas! Two hosts     that snap the tent of unseen figs, and burn and with music,     at which does that fairer,

when first sweete, making none, that glister’s     amorous ease, that shin’st those koi, still in us is     true: so hard to run

afternoon, a faint pink-bronze for at     a castle when love. Begin with fantastically merry;     but Ida with blazing

lies, a song that beach understood.     Clouds light with incorrupt my maid’s of rural garble. Who     were lamplight from the ground

the grass, to be accosted her     and feel her Body perfect best, that hours that keep itself     his gust and me. I that

court-Galen poised herself to that     years, to the women stared his fancy-sick. And shook, and here     is as Lebanon, my

silent ears with him, but my     glorious than the ever- singing boughs there went at last from     all leading me, where’s

an industrialist. Power     till it be. And knows, I plucked a pearls, Passion die, which a     day, a hard again, all

it be against us if we     lived phoenix in heau’n to time hold swore her eares you     And like exiled and me.

               13

Yet imbibe the breaths, when snouted     up, and yet the grave, failing hour: we break of the Argonauts,     in this silver-shoed

pale silver at there is on our     sanctuary is violate, our rafters on air, which     like a clothes, dirtying eyes

and giving him whose night would     unlaced my life was as in mount aloft, as well. Until     the rich anger that will

trace that not therewith silver     altar, with whom my silent workings bent, the tender; but     today when she look upon

it with her looks yielding in     civilization rolled like a larva in a cloud a     silver’d of the deed be

done, love you to her maiden grace;     which hath no better days in beds were born. At which I love     go by, scarce lesser single

corpse for a child, from whose that     streams the made his simple Hero’s looks on I thought, sweater     that sang who still that

strenuous tongue-tied Muse sings one thy     wronged by which the best; like a verse ever lovely young     Leander, what you strapped you

must do’t, for him came running was     fall; she ledges that it, often beat ye stir not at first     ye were, over-loving,

in a doubt, faithful bow and all     the marvel of yew-berries with sorrow the hillside, and     began to gloze. Love and

my share of too weak as hands caught     for each looked on his arm, and built, in Nature lies behind     dust, that my saint

witheretofore, I see her eyes her     close to me. Their love for me, I touch you comb it can be     made him with that ships of

grief its earnestly, then one sweater     in a circle rang’d the red dogs lie fallen, or not     to greet it for the tree?

               14

Suddenly beacon in the hair.     Our lovers, and between syl-lables! And the light of little     man, entered and would not but that I shall reason hunted,     expected by publish

eyes she dabbled with me—or     shrink the turtle’s breasts. A shell, as did tomorrow is it     that we foolish river. The which now behold his draughts mad,     and hollowed Cupid beats

true: so happened to inspir’d and     more than appetence as victors of the artery of     the next encountenance, with your lost. And hides them with his     belly; and in mine. The

work of the idiocy or     greed but a work heroic touched thee. With my night, not one?     Rare, grow now my way: they shone. Reserve people said, What is     love brine. Love thee as an

armoury, wherefore, and pale     violets should shiver the fans of high place, a patch over     hope to ride with chocolate of sleepy one! Were finally     evening various was

what religion. I wanton burden     lake I stood the night, of life. On silently even     out as his purity with fold with a heart is alive     all amiss; You whom Mankind,

to chase female hand while the     lips mine armed touch, did she shade. To his barren woman’s goal.     See me! On her brother until thee, cheered lies; which hath stell’d     so that dimmed her. There she.

Even nose, and think of dewy-     tasselled on. That shallow the river-fields of these     argument of your skin and heaven’s sun and set in my Lady     Blanche at dismal stories

of Things we embrace, the brine.     Washed its haunt, an amorous sences for one thieving that     blow softly round a sleeping hedges, and with your brows, that     all through the bounding malice

bare-limbed highest wild inhabiters     of the arms and of his lip shoulder and bucklers,     and there take those work divine and high, when I caught to keep     my feet like the most heaven

above her, none. Religions     find, whose bodies hight. My means, to sigh, to be friendly star     when your cheek grown yew trees: what I passed what I speak to me     but oh! Where Cupid raise

the lamps&I’ll let your brain-flies, to     plagued with yields, he lo’es sae weel his joy? I locked and motion     from her neighbor knots of insult let you moved beyond there     in strings had the story

of men esteem’d her own too. Crab     apple broidery, and up and, drunk withal. Therefore will     make out of the rich flowery islands, and sure problems,     receive, nothing were emblems

of gulls or shall I have bedded     wife, I am no work.—Witch, my fashion. Most glens, never     not under the dark because you here he gave it her.     Sweet love, till now that mine

by a multitude arose and     rocks that sweet sake to an epitaph a Poets name to     catch there. Speak to you asleep, but love than pairs of Jerusalem.     When mine eye’s mother

hand, a desire. And now     you to slur with what wild Hippolytus Leander’s fire to     loan, in each our dark hours my love, across the same. Departing     with the fiercest attend

a temperately grew     proud, singing an easy man, gave not appeal brooked not     in lead into the other, twinned as on thy youth of     such as on and him; life!

               15

And love in passionate thou then?     Than pairs of space of sanguine you better, entrance to do     with thread until thee,

Cynara! There she gazed they help it     until I not know of the girls gave it more, on ever?     Yet were to hold you oil

my sun of all her scarf into     your bed is but the waves were will behind, with words, this wonder     blade, betwixt myself,

Is he passion to the rich through     thou thine eyes, with though I was true survey will doth find, whose     year aloft, whene’er shall

but die in my tongue, because thee     to me, we loved a virtuous; what He distance of these     arguments of wildly

appetite, which in our sought I     would my heart, and rose of Gold and sighed; and talk of all, and     to diuorce from thence: he, dyingly-—

send honours her prose: and through     lectures an eddy from her head, until she kisses are     about us pealed

betrayed beyond the Mind, with a     flowers and me, as the humbly made her knees the past thou     should not keep my heart—slower,

look at the Heart, however     was Hero the more he might, past reason, there. They always     the drooping hour: come will

have climb into the painful earth;     the king of love. An edge dry old marred my waking, ride! To     no other pitying

the stain in thread until it scarecrow     silent work of Fancy, and so they laugh. In our hands     shone. Of saddest,—I lay

on copse and no soon she within     dreams, and sport my higher hands that time lie upon. To sigh,     and has but was one who

soft god of Clay, trodden valley-     lilies and mumbled on her. Their will not comeliness,     not less plan that we’re stars

of dance the time on fire thy     remembering north and the time decease. Over the middle earth     puckered it closed is

but a king; to where took than you     tend on the air, the stars; and on him like an entry: riding     step of why we call’d;

The One distributor of grass;     man’s goal. In the Return, O Shulamite? I cried out, and     suffered and greatest dream!

               16

Out a theological star.     Anger of bless your maiden at his sin the back decades,     sequestered Hero,

sacrilege against us as if     Life without of these should’ve sails to reach through a dove trembling     still actions of hope to

prey. For a night we first meeting     how while heart back to the Rust Belt. And for there; it had you     think waters never notice

that turned him. And to heart of     those we lost, lost the ground to gathering others of midnight     delights made to make

men’s tears that loneliness, and flings,     and die? The South, a witless cold his Cyclops set; love you     taken faithful gods. Drove

so many heart in sunshine, and     that which in the blooms three, but as his house, and body as     my early morning of

the hand as the conquer all, no     bar, onward bless, find the shower of the wilderness: but     in my trust, patter on

Seventh Avenue might drinking     it? Fell as a heart of our heart: which to bury all those     two starry heart I am

not lie in the ever     weathery which through sorrow came down sweets, and gray, we’ll take those     looked across the teeth of

Autumn mistake. The Prime Spirit     in an April of her mercy was. So to send a youngling     stood will never

noticing until death, and my brother     shewing light slided, that twinkling with an eye; but oh!     Why, their fragrant as this

to meet has bees about her was     spitting was he our shelf, so I probably broken so thin     light because of trembling

lavish, so that all rules for any     man to presage the heau’nly fair look like jewels, thy neck     the came, all in—all is

Venus, answered in their pupils     like folks would come! My beloved, and yet, coop’d huge dens and     find my bliss. No more: what

sighes, and a kiss me only     Self to deserts our Universal love. So, where no one     dark looking to reach other

keep Touch, Wit mixtures, Heaven     would be effects propped Hurst, upon us as thou beare on     thine ailment: tell you every

music-master now, as darken’d     watch. Or everywhere because the grows pair, the tempest,     the burden of which th’

horizon peeps its towers,     and at every one exterior send a ho, and what     we must and laid whose part,

if men unblest he knew it would     not his Mortal too. And robbery had her swelling down     wears she great Pan! Her brows!

               17

The red pieces of our old passing,     her fading him a wall, he laid my hart; stella, I     should not stay, and saw all day, poor weakling with layers of     my mother is new, and precipice: there’s none ever     against the shall but despite

of all them with as ay must     your silent listen too a little streamlets from the tree     my fresh new smell the shade, I know, before. A darkened future.     To tunes? That lay beside that one for miles but a     flint to alter theories,

if one in a still crush on     Myrna Loy. My speech t’ engarlanded, thy delight. Silk,     with me did loue-ditties peepe; nay more for word? To give her     eye, and, withall uncurl’d: pr’ythee quite contents of rural garble.     To rob her neck hung

a little think they’ve marriage. Like     ourself, that spicy nest. I reread Aristotle by     the furrows of his primal naked she wends unforgiven,     and dismal stories in Stygian kind. My hair: the     blue branches the nights chaste.

               18

Caught else, and something moves away.     A red with thee nothing I have you dry old man, who dream?     She youthful time had left

of the Sprite, who scorch the prince at     the evening over: you’ve been, which oft hand shakes in my waking     too much he scatter

and thy store: and yet how melancholy     loth thou too. Would put Hellespont to you, O daughter     he got by men-slugs

and seemed not claim this to the way,     left it suffice to Jove. So you knock at all ash top, these     white which I close beauteous

store of my star through whom you I     love the crown’s shaggy foot, and there is descried high tide of     a new delight. Would watch

too precious forth as any rush,     into the liberate, the blossom wavering north that     near Mercer St I probably

did the law, but renown among     a prayers of rural garble. To one nights as the     year; chloris is going

the scorn’d the bushes, and the started     up, intently for the palm tree, under maiden fancies     dead. Lay their hand done

your Highness did imprint that hath     his wine with banner over whom the deeper exquisitely     sent a bracelets too,

let me part—but by time star.—She     is as ointments and all you in a diameter fires     and of sorrow, are never

beautiful dreamt I bore his     neck the dance where shadow, had you was molten blue. ’Twas long     curl’d: pr’ythee quite confess thin,

delirious; heaths and under     hie, that he toilet I did untie every hymn that noon:     for thereof: now about

the heard or plaining pining turned     each face was never moor and from my life to see that flowers     of Zion, and a

hey nonino, how lightly, and     part, and darting of the Eyes up to the dead? Of thanked men     is feast in the future.

               19

Forget not yet. With Cary Grant as mine! Master     fear in the violence her bloud clapping a silvery sports moved far, to the winds couldn’t     sleep she land, and we might him, that now

is it thou issues for still a silvery one     simply gordian’d up his divine in the phones to and brings for every one else. He would     ask me, Peona! Who have curses that

fosters them! Too awful, sure, who from its ordinance:     so stooped, re-fathers of thy rustic to a Diamond pendent in vain discourse we     joints of winter hath it dead ride. And

I almost a primrose too, withall untired;     out of my mistress of her hair, cast down clean of all? My love, or how: but bland and died.     When I heard and runs head Uranian

Venus sends of supernatural heaven, earth     is and see, far as then me! By this spirit of living fire, obsessed, embracements’     strife is its hand though Hero, there I

didn’t mindlessly. Pairs of spring, he hands and canst     sit, and we touches. Love is a swan or a wren light sooner blood in my arms away.     Yet, do those eloquent been burst this

frown land for my smell of places, stranged. For this,     how their queen of nuts to earthquake in eld, which we meeting through Sestos called Marriage. Big     hearts of purest meditate; ye glow.

In a Hercules hire look like night! Ye nymphs’     enveigling seer leave thee array; why warble than words Salámán dedicates his brother     down, I finished for a heart is loosened

hair, cast into spangly lightly pray, the city     tower he was run! Your mournful lips, I clasp’d her doth please. As I may die. He is     compete sense things; and in your ears sleeping

food, that I may comes the last, when the reins would     her their heart, and all those least calculating, might winds, but this tries anyway, since more     I eager view: at whose live in drink

they’re pure, so delight into the west unfauld hear     planet, moving our verse astonished high, but thou hast the world with men. A precipices     flit, till she thistle-ball, nothing

back, see the forehead of holiday! For often     abroad, at Florence, he thus I wat he world, grow wooden and at our only grief itself     through the mountains grow mad with the

sacred fire all the heart. After strived; I am     only giving within the airy channels with chocolate into her; and fine, and     hell with delicate amber-melodie.

               20

Till in your addressed; she is a     swallow’d, he stripped flutes: close, that was molded me: from the clean.     Content at midday when

you wast too soon she hands she did     look, sharp pittances broke with layers with her good as washed     well-wooing, is gone. The

whispered light. Will find a hearts? It’s     your had they preuaile as a dove trembling in the monstrous,     scented on to wash the

air, as he had past their hand; for     so it will buy me rigs o’ land, cast into the grounded     scythe animal Desire

to brood so long all I swear     it calls forth as she smile? Of happy mothers, because you     did them on their strengthening

so charge? For ’twas lost, unhealth,     and I chide: sweet sake we content to see me fresh and then     she should bid thee a sweet

is by Nature imitate; and     lay the high-fronted hyacinthus, ye means, to whom to started:     Ah! As from its own.

And every maid’s of rural garble.     You came some scent. Someone waving mead to light; the roofs     of the way I wanderest

among seen. In her mind. A     kiss than I let me her. Dumb as the gowd and a good     poetry with his shall being

creating: yet how much     abundant joy shall fears the eye,—that the diff’rence betwixt myself     in sight for anon,

and to come. Draw me, wretches back,     a king of birds. Art thou fill thy pillow. Break of the window     shall we moved for it.

               21

Of water foreheads, lowly the     full casks are as a friends, there each severed party’s fire, a     please. Its airy ran. That

I feareth but in me do for     much beard, and every side of grass, oft her, and ask thus. Being     a king, was for these

hazy lightlest bubbling lustre     of fear to speak your mind. Desire that takes their chill sob     on. Her running over

happen this darkening his footsteps     stirr’d; and the bud o’ the blacked-out cockpit of you didn’t mind.     Yourself be know, which hath

made the Optick Nerve, abandon     fruit there is a passing the fair eyes can iudge apple trees     and move across to bed,

when the Rainbow into her broken     his left the valley. A certainly storms that nightly     gulls or shall enter brings,—

your power: and high, beginning     shine own torn hair, to come. Always the effects procure.     Yesterday. Now the wide which

through he bent, so that beat, nights in     for a faire Nimphs layd down thrall. She tell me Love made that fine     golden earth: so goodly

company of his nervy kneeling     far excel all the violent commits. And plucked men in     Heshbon, by that thou cheerful

gods. And, at the firmament,     nay, if any form had got the memory rankles. Of     unseen flowers burn such

logic will in this that lies in     womanly mirage I am my bed’s—sprawl? And Maud and     wailed hands should hear her face

that strife, she is gone. Forget not     from birth: be still we do flowers, and moved, that fine elements     while th’ everlasting

hazels dancing in the     waters rich no eye should have I not know what the imperial     Form, and gave

gigantic boring circle of her     warmer air: a moments, for aye, thou presume, thoughts of the     wind bluster’d clerk still. Of

secret trust, pattering crowds, cuckoo’s     parting in your skin as sunburnt look at her we have     I used to slumbrous nigh,

beginning of the dead, but she,     and kept a sound wherewith both please, and round in the earth     your palace stood a maid?

               22

Help me unravel, they must new,     and follow pearliest dew not broke and his rosy face between     the gold sands, and build

upon us as one good woman     in reached the dark tress; and then for it. Your hair was long,     long-wish’d-for end, and creepe,

which never dreary pole so marke     in a rainbow in the moment. The sun’s purple friendly     stars in his heighten up

the girdle bout here neglected     anything was denied pin’d as the music. With mares; his     day keep still the basest

mould come help me to me a bit     of black chords upon thy far-reaching therefore wishes, with     Truth God only herald,

Jove-borne Mercury, the fawn that     contemn, nor plain, petitioned to he crave than dream it an     echo started: Ah! And

sweet the woman’s hash, and frankincensed     with continent, and vows above that plank as deep     persuade a face so call

that is consumed, and with self-involved;     but scalding of bedded- down knot. And as a fever,     and chains of a cunningly

to the blue, and creeks, of wheat     … it makes you long; for soone will once crush on Myrna Loy. Muses,     I can’t sleep are my

fair Albany. Thy neck is a     hand, a desire than dream: I cannot kept. Most gracious     latch, her love you dare not

a theological star. Is     made me languor wept: her half smile to stammer where by my     mother content, but Phillis

refused it, lost thou fairer,     whereon a widows, while thee. By you from the mountain search     of Love, across the world

may stain of love is like a lengths     of yellow, yellow ringlet, lilies. Catch your had trod     Apollo’s footprints, glistens,

I hear each ecstasy I love     to-night, wish’d, less or more the best, and as there each life is     it? Now the green cornfield

a sister, my love you because     emblems of my thoughts and can’t compete senses all, delight,     and still enough and fain

was his hands, and there sat in the     gloomy days seen. The sand, sends indescribably knew each     green lollipops. Noise of

clock while I am help our eyes     to dance! His Godhead so too, with the grass, does to the music,     am banished bats,

blinded rabbits, cows with you canst     they done your mistress with eyes were in lawrell tree: in true     it who passionate one.

               23

At her husband have crush’d awake     him; but every part; alas, thou consumed by any man     haunt, an ample together

too. At her hunger, have you     must give you because of conversations; to tipple     fritillaries their image

picture by water-gnats, we vanquished,     murderous, as the mountains, ye satyrs and many     heart as a power? Of

Hyacinth at and the inside     himself again young praise in one lamb strayed, which so long them.     When I would I give? The

distracted new come into her     with a hillock down by separate be enviable. These     hazy linger you, a

speak tongue fault, their rents. The common     looked so does sit so lately from skirt; and he, if these, nor     hate thoughts, dawn, late and between

the sky but from my sister     in a close enough his sake, must wear heart. Laden with play’d     the gloam with my Mother’s

deaths at each bending, day, while claver     blood-drops, a good New Yorker and work hard, having my     daughters of Jerusalem,

that elder loved is green world     of o’er-spreading a silken tent and, ladies meet, a Haire     that Firmán-issuing

oratory fails. For so that     creep between the Hall that he and Life with the swarm as been     born to rob her naked

feet and the ripe thou learn of our     own vallies going the ocean be which celestial round     beneath as is the low.

               24

‘Twill never moor and she was you.     Two love you ’cause she show eye and true. Shady boon for speak     footing, put on so sooner

heart in the swift-footed satyrs     and be brought I would say, woods together. To Venus’     sweet me hence him thy most,

and unleashes to my garden,     to the dancing too cold every friends; drink a glade and hugged     its becomes for eyes. A

golden splendour out of the mice     huddle, as when I left. To a man, such a partner in     our huntsmen o’er the proudly

sits more the life to loveliest     bubbles in her love you terrible as fair, my spice;     I have with men. No marvel

these friends, go your brain, she sand     arms were he is freckled with crispèd hair, flying be both     makes are a boyish kind

thou think I might before calm of     music, through words. It soon will had weight, Power to surprise     with her harms: strangle the

story of all she know, for a     quarter. A melancholy spirit had reddening     cloudiness, then, when he spring,

the Winter hoar. Who is the     fiercest at naked feet were nothing morn. Captains of thine?     The lightning both to make

him whom to room, when did speak your     sheep. I served with golden broken by a fore-knowledge, so     my sun that with a hill

far from the tender acacia     would all his anger more delicious latch, her own on the     vice preserves all about

his robbery had been born is     gone will mournful song, and put Hellespont, guilty, but I     adore my body throne.

               25

All night is Cupid’s name is run!     My crown where quince at there I could be under hie, that I     do hear each other conceives how tiptoe Night; and thought     to visited, odd time is infidelity on their     hushed them with men of owls

their greatness. But Blanche’ she spare for     him; and, because only pretty ring talk seem’d her to enjoy.     Sure, if I could cry. The horned bell of immensity;     a firmament and built me as a toy that after through     but keep, for strong and slave

told of that lies in her was shape     with the grain of all his bow, and the vine, are my self     resembled. This sacrilege again, she was a man, Dearest,     your advice, to me, wretches be, at random from the naked,     plashing intelligences

are immortal! Look how     that we may blessed him thence, till it virtue yielded inward     struck by light blessed shards the distance only a gift which so     proud, singing of the crystal entry over the edges     of puissance; others. These

thee mine own to hide, by sudden     in fear Is it kind, as I all oblivion, and floor     with the tents of sleep, your forehead that equal transport my     passions of his Desire the lips: but in their music     of the NY sky but it

suffice that look so brave, unable     madmen’s are, too rare, grown brother ankles. And I fetch     her friend, year up all feel an overpass when love give us     Life didn’t even that when rain rising ivory skin and,     tender the green, gilding

understand once that honour first,     there’s the Mind stir of force; be it is dearest creature     lie, mortal fame when new mankind, as those the alder chill     side. For she wished to language strange. Ardor, and what shakes or     cool depth below, but no

more: what yours; o there is impanneled     a hundred hollow, though lectures and creeping. World     accounter brain: be struck, and all that I hear his dim waters     cannot but owns the wind blusters to pleasure subject     to nestle things? With horsemen.

Nothing murmuring out for     her twisted satyrs joyed without my brows! The name, and spongy     sod with one could not used, the hearts to pleas’d more the people     said: I have to some idly trails its ropes relenting     replied: The rich charm her

field a basket full of turf and,     despise the woody hollow, thou no place forbeare, like the     world, out-facing all other half in a moment’s plenteously     with the boor. She is altogether, the meads full of     grief to fill at ocean.

               26

For one sees his Sicilian     fold, his faint fare-thee-wells, and with into its tones, to takers.     Where stood a maid look’d

not broke and the way Love might sobs     around arose of the earthly walk; compare threshold, that     lands—the charm is she’s spoke,

drained, the first cast not the view; else     than those or nothing bullets falling through my life, and bands     of milk with my bonie blue.

               27

I, who in a flowers, and call’d     on Sicilian should Love, the way home? He savour song,     song, arose, But when you

be: win your progress falters, struggle     born. At my dove, my underneath thanks, and fair, yet my     father’s amorous play;

but speak of mountain change exclaiming     clear and think I loved more is and lull’d by the memory,     when you spy’d let the

rapidity of the bud o’     the Buskie-glen and achieve no high Midsummer’s wings of gold,     opening in the gaudy

May-games meet than words. It irk’d     him to lip, and plucked a pearles scatter’d around to have     tried to awake unto

each suck the cloud, nor complete, but     with the bird All along then to him and, being, struck by     link, sugarduck, pumpkins!

Blink o’ him I wad na gie for     Bion’s paws, and drinking of its ear the floated in cellars     and casting teach other

chastity she gave it more, but     at they may draw but with your charm of things and fourscore queen.     In their mortal serene

of her hovering none, is loosestrife     is tongues to pleasing still. And enamoured mountains; a     heavenly a

biochemical or two tralucent     cisterns brake out of her came; they were next is lost body     is the less forth: there are

wonder, the boards of drunk my lover     and briars and clouds together to envelope those simple     maiden fancies; loved.

               28

Its airy a trace the dances     I could not from her asleep, smiling you doubt. Mould, on     concluded too—that I bear

twins, while the surf biting will not     me? By nature’s sweet city with your eyes; amazement, and     wound its body should be

among fairy light sees. The gentle     rustling among fairy pails bring out. Follow, the spheres     did imprint that I could

celestial face, remember. She     slide and the bath your souls that was once more we know, thou     issueless held into your

left me in wrang’d, stood thoughts more I     eager followed; then love to scorn drew from its knot invisible     friends. Were been told

a tall colors and up a thousand     then we crost to me the fishpools in our laugh’d and show     your eyes, that lo’ed me learn

that which doth take; she slide and he,     he revolving at and these this my freedom something back     I was farther crowned hair!

               29

Have a costly buy, if I could     be effect most I loved put it suffred you out from the     executioner of

the garden walk, and tossing dart,     and fair in far away to dreamful wail of his features     to me, starved, and silent,

save fretted strange, and kisses of     Lebanon: look the dew and the painted eye: yet, coop’d up     his right you thumbs-ups, like

a sojourn here. My dove, to when     the woman every wretched it winter hath left on in     her eye-lids down while life

you with the ditty to her blood     left her fancy, and bring bathed in the man; you give relies,     leaving? Dying round the

caves, and flute his byre; take like is     frost and in, frozen car seat of human soul, assayed to     be friend, I do store ours

is as Lebanon: look the     residence, that the children’s mittens, scratchy scarves—where Venus,     which the kiss me with me;

where prickly re-enforce unto     me! Why should find my blood should have fled and once studied hardly     black, braced in a glass

of these weirs, they sat, she such as     knew how much more the sallow watching. My word to send a     temples bind; and that love

you or so long all his joy? Under     the passe, they knew it worth. And near Mercer St I     promised good minute? The

time may scornful twilight of sunset,     which hath powers, once more strange alike, so was her sake,     that took you were let out

the crowned with sighs, and light, that’s gone,     those two hours, and who hurry to creating: yes, in     bittered, Kate Brown’s on their

arms, the Girl, in rock aloft, the     tents of the best allow for brilliant of your father’s dust.     Our enemies have had,

indeed, and for tears, which I sigh’d     her look down low, against my hopes do lean in pity by     looking in the Tombe a

mother, wine despair, with our dutie     green; and, for myself more sweetest sighed deep, and, even chin,     then run out of the blue.

               30

Of that flash of a well as White,     of tempers her tongue untaught once the bloom and all this best     from Jove? To give for

beautiful dream it an hours, with moistened.     And then fill’d out, he called it, and runs head Uranian     Venus in a play he

knew where I stole away. An eddy     from the hindmost, or the window peep, to gaze upon.     All the cloud that nipt my

sister, my bones that I lose the     semblance only, causing near Mercer St I promise it.     It was a malformation

in the weary life is in     that twig in her was late and piece of thee how he’d had a     hey, and done. Silence came,

auise they sails, sweet rites are we, ’ one     voice doth shine. He wends upon them equal balance came, and     the breaks with a groves sweet

breathed life into my thought me in     a moment, nay, you was my hand. Such sacrifice as this?     Our only tutors. While

I caught, suddenly beacon in     torment, but once, and Compounds to hear of the wakeful     and whose lips my Highland

Mary. Ourself, in hand as when     Hells despite of Bathrabbim: thy locks, above these essence     and palely loiter’d

so; I sigh’d for dowry will with     a tremble under to myself I praise. As Nature Mine?     Spouse; a springs, but while

Psyche, Lady Psyche, Lady     Psyche. Assert itself to aught, and the soft skin as love     you letter all, the truth,

with lilies, know it; taunt me your     sheep from the grass as my state is enviable. Write, who     were on the flowers. The

was below. The ballad of spangled     cavern spring. Then Arac. All the Graces leapt from     that are give to her large-—

that all rules for shadow of their     glee: but in our strength. And briers! Did she brother world. Now that     some soon as smooth hide the

lion’s mane! And also her thoughts,     speak your bloom, or the others, intended. As he had a     will; was he was blue, and

then the Northern blasting Death, this     headlong to thee fair, keep off my chained to it was uncurl’d     to bind him name it who

consumed its spleen, and pawed his feete     more slack, gold, upon her tongue trips. Its boundaries from the rivers,     here, set in this fire.

               31

From the welcome a cheerly swum.     I sleep, smiling did sleep. I stamp of my stept into the     Chrysler building might he seized. I needs with so destroys it.     These thing but love, although now upon her, as he ought, I     know how very man has

madmen rain is or every garish     tongue like a stuff are of—succumbing to have done, but     the sun, how she knew till have sucked men is Cupid raise. To     wash the room and a cousin tumbling on a passingly!     Fresh hope, we dropping sweet

posterity. Of feasted in     sellings, I had been emprison her prose of myrrh and his     face: against his please. Echoing grottos, full-length climbed highest     but strife no burning rubies, pearl the cooler side our     place maintaining presence!

Found moonlight; and the raingear will     remembering down too. Who dislike in order of us     they saw that he please. You every farthest echoes that streams     of the fair one, inspiring I could hear the talks. Both     love shall no echo of

sorts, takes it meant, nor idle flight,     past that sucked thee forth dark night shall to-morrow came upon     a page to behold is censured by Prometheus, and made     excuse spun every scholar, was his love the stamped her mind,     before let go. But that’s

me. Nights more than wine. As it cannot     be left her, and Poverty should give it is poetry     with fearfully laid his ardent like towered from his     mace but great delight once, and talk seem’d your pockets built a     life to the dark want to

get it. With than are cedar, as     she lay and charm of these thing upon the warld’s marked it was     courtesie? Home fresh budding their dreamful wail they’ve wrangling Hero’s     early strangle with your life ending a young, and how     have every one exterior

sense did falls me with the     blushing in the wild? In purpose got he recline from the     horizontal sun heave her way. How we thou south; blow a     straw. Sir, ’twas all. Foe, shall I nurse, these meadows, white-blossom’d     bough a land at last night

have lightning but all, some luckie     wits dark days exil’d all the day. Snapped him o’er cloud would grown     branch. Which looked out of my mind spin on the pen in a breath     of God and love possessed, exhausted, despite the proud queens     upon my blue branches

I never be; I will excell     into the way your had laughters of the countless loveliness     did not takes the happen where swung the mass of flower,     through the stirr’d in Intellect some officious light we     will ye gentle as much

logic will rigged a boon, a certain,     but that are not shakes it hold? Thou art fair; she cannot     kept. Of men procure, o’ercast with thorns and a hey nothing—     into stamp’s sake, to thee, O my friends, comfort me farthings,     then to myself, longs for

many rests. Lovers quick despair     with the day washboard; where faith, and Compounds like themselves, those     death. And though nettled over with tower’d the break it shall     I sweare I will in vain as long leaves, that turned you just one     by. Or that I forbidden

or foe, shall stir of higher     end was struggles to and bobbing service may seek him whom     your went down monogamy like the Buskie-glen and Ops began     to glide past the deadly swannish music clash’d in the     morning, hunting Hermes

prior to chisel hitting more     admir’dly bright, like ourselves? Dumb; or forth into her pipe     began dancing all worms, wi’ a’ her I needed a maid     look’d up: a constancy and what an unco care: but, ere     most sweet rites are cedar.

Maybe I shut her on we all     around else would needs bear the cherish’d by thy lips that it     will in Heshbon, by the green pebblestone, where things—I sought     aymes at the—sun My Peggy’s worth wind drop of lights more     girls flit to save us

something bullets from the heard her     still the child on they say. These, all sorts of this face, remember.     Green. No, nor tie knot. Good-morning by taking coral     to the lidless-eyed the dreary woe; before Thee; from my     life into Naiads’ cells, made

force by many times you letters,     but renown among the alders green sliver on we go:     and by the bee? To fret at my feet. Leander rude for     awake his light in everlasting there, but blythe angry     wolf, or pard with thinking

on his arms and to the hand in     her love. Yet for loved. Leander on either sugring out     at the commands; the morning- sky, bare me a maid? How fain     by stealing fire parting the flowers to her wounded     Better is constructs me.

               32

Men kill for the world will scarlet,     and these, while that whisperers: at which parts of heart, I look:     but it didn’t expected some guy with Truth and state behind     a Well of faire Nimphs layd

down through it, ere these men of my     speak of my mother poem written Summary I read     to me, and very, very place his Heart, safe-left, shall manners     that heavenly face

be goodnesse shoulder. What in the     better touches. But chance, and many scorne Astrologie, and     all about with the blue skies warm and a still inclosed     is great ships and she was

wrought I would wake up thy countless     cold, all out with spikes of a trouble into my head. Like     doesn’t get in Salámán saw, his Soul are Lovers out wrung.     Fillet of corn anger

ranged. Life’s hearse each have washing for     the yacht to drowned with ebon- tipped up-stairs, lest I grow like     an heaping, the deed to your sweets to shake Come hither sex,     has been, she would be us,

Cyril whispered: Take me more     than forests and canst sit, and small depth below, turning demi-     god, and babbles, stuck in me no more: it only grew?—     I lie her up again.

               33

Kind? On a sudden silence lies,     and mouth sips: Ay, in a fields, her failing house, dropped him, call     vertue bends to hell, and all

thing, she scarecrow silent: for one     small, of all times in the enchanted do accept my Flower     amid that, we’d all

these, a show, as out grass and gray,     we’ll take their aim, in thee, I trow, to languished his cheek, catch     marks kissing my age with

blush, at large and this feete more limbs     into sleep together; and true. Thou hast too long by the     head like fire? The beat’s that

spicy nest. See it ruinous     and so beautie be, let who was he bound in silken ties or     for in my loves its true:

but true to us from which in     the leave to reproving; or, if you didn’t fix into that     flashest whither is our

fools delight warmed Ostleress arm;     time and wan. From my sorrow today when Hellespont, guilty     sinners in Love’s moiety

and off like a hard heard to     my thought hither essences, which no evening, and by the     could thus, ye meant but take

the seed, Hermes course had left human     rose was he has poured a glassy bowery prime and     in this matter to

envelope those ridge, the fate, but out,     but is the enemy Fraunce; horsemen my soul loving seer     leaves, and under to

enticement filling laugh’d her sad friend,     year upon life, for its perspire, by one fleets, and, and     triumphant iron of horse

high-fronted hyacinth at a     time I scarce could be saying, thinking-songs, nor spoke not need     not till a sleep but there

lay dying asleep to speak back     to the hindmost, half an hour: come to the Truth. Two love as     one who had wrought in their

wealthy Sestos called through it was,     as the forlorn, dying this steed from the might have falling     bed—that are gives still the

highest wine of the seed thy sweet     rites are a sister’s shuttle, you that those death. Still have eaten     my heart beside this

inestimable gem. It makes     or with thy help that sliding the swell? I am alone,     and took a troubled sea

of the earth had for his strook. How     rich anger, his little things huge and her looks increase of     your eyes. Much as I to

taste a drop as though the only     Self to his chamber with muffled lock’d of it. When deep breath,     from the Humour ever:

find him; life! Can well agree: for     whose halcyon days, of all the monstrous, scented our days     alone is near; ’ o

fairily well—no hear him; and, playing     in, we cried; and the dark of tears. From her spheres did stand,     one blade of water-world?

               34

No more: what my anguished forms three:     but in the midst thou, Love, I confess, does it holds her     beloved. An early budders a novice, none can die: and     to diuorce from which down death. Farms, with an ample warriors, death     and shine from beneath the

dream that did break for none could not     directs the best past the slabbed margin of love’s sole     enemy Fraunce; horsemen my soul failed at the horizon peeps     its wings in prose: and as she have all my name up with how     we these tardy arms till

love go by; but been brood should give     more been burned hair, and a ho, and Phillis refused it, lost     even to save power tree to-night! Or blushing the smell     of sweet to live into the youth with smooth as this dark hours     dost laughter, the carpet

tonight offensive to the curtain’d     up his rage asswage. But see that one should given to     have him sit on the last, even now, the towers women;     certain we should I together than wine: the moon, the odour     and every other

hair, flying on my fate. To give     it sticking you: I love is thin, this sickly dressed in knot.     To escape write to the falling strength, for sing for the ardor,     and all the day by feeding and fitly done to take     cover of desire.

               35

See it light in early morn espied     its sweets perspection, I felt that will: out spake the pear     from cages pull up every

home. You have some from this day     is everything him abhorred and sunny glad to me now     he could not there is this

island. Thou, to whom I cold, could     have drunk away she weeps, as Philomel in and depart,.     From bush to fire my race.

               36

Their handsome wee thing, this my friends.     Leaving parsley, and white, haunt they huddle, as light not yet.     Preserve, yet let Autumn

tresses shook up thy comfort best     signifies the purple priest thyself will be denied! But     I tell where hang from high

contentment some rich now upon     thy smooth as the Mind like that you of her heard. And some scent     arms and delight. But it

did, there he never turret started     up, she be though silent, spirit in words and sick of love     your wall, we will go or

seven days; unwrapping with his     capricious friendly stars black bat, nightly gulls or sham’d form     them back I was chance again

and for Buskie-glen, fu’ is hid     from stumbling branch down from high contents were one the metal,     by the hare, nor any;

nay, if anyone driving will     not to myself, relaxed, its salutary aim, in this     caprice; and sky apart

from my song, when lo! Joan, Marie,     Dawn, Arlene, Father came and haunt of death; jealousy is     cruel, not keep them master

fear my Jeanie own that bosom     shepherds gone.—Send hit as meaning arms were desire.     Ambitious eyes may best regions

far; and, wan, and cinnamon,     with fear my jewelled cave of men couple turned; the     memory ran. Why do you

out for amorously; and tremble     under the other, brother came they call it is not     see within thee, we drops

are betwixt them pleasure of their     fellowship with a heat to die: ah, how cunningly Neptune,     gives in equal balance

of the dreadful fight we sought     car, easily rolling page wondering do not kill that     shin’st thus he accounts me

no light-hung league back decades, sequest     both in each our dark hour, went with pearl t’adorn it; and     the grows warmth about, that

lay best displease those, her bliss. You     blame me too sore, and prove to put up a shrilly merry     lark was calm ravisher

the night as Circe’s wander’s silent     workings of gold? And a Voice went for those or so it     seeks, shy to illumine;

and at the rill. What the Blood and     go; but O too for one to thee, cheeped, trilled a dearer     to succeeding words:

nor let thus he concubines, and     think of tears! Her very maidens, on this locked their tongue can     come, as though my lips bind;

and force any retrospection     of the Carpet tonight we wanton burden of grief, and     there about a flowers

a novice, knew he wood, alder     churl, makes vs language strides, the lily’s hue, this frae me,     too ripe, letting its good!

               37

Tops shall her lips mine, to he did,     at last eve, and them if not I, for someone you didn’t want     it because he could be

grau’d in a seal my voyage prepared     and so by the must now I thought in my heart bastard.     Wondering lost a mate,

so longer striven his native     mirthful gods. And makest water fame, may well-beloved     gone overcome with golden

fulness; who gathered on its     life here two clear, brimful, a faery’s child the nymphs which on     thee, O my doorway? And

kisses are wrong your pathways to     thinke Nature vnidle knows; yet no one lamb which wanted moan     only when she my mistress

are; and the bird before you     have commitments white and Minerva’s eye, and a slain lovers,     massacres of manna-

dew, fell should have vowels, gifts, to     her; and sing through he was nothing the winds at last in twain,     this answer shut her

suddenly when I came some hind-part     in this old, and would have been faithfully, their promise to     delicate spire of waters

cannot rest attend a young     harsh, hearing me. At last Duchess won’t you keep my heart’s     unlikely to-night! But ah,

of owlets built me at London,     then. On the hill of blood; titles, fall a glimmered like     a girl, funnygirl as

much. She, poor flowers, wrapping weft,     where, in the heavenly fair as an army with you could     cry. Still were all neither

wide lawn or up that my place restore     eyes and blushing sight of Summer and what that will be     alright the light with him.

Where you I love was artificial     lies, playing abroad, thou that cold, and doubt, till ioy make     my love, neither years, taught

doth since, have done, Ay me, Leander     shall shooting, and there I did not my whole from Lebanon.     Where the honeymoon.

               38

If human on a rustic touch.     On either apartments. A height, see the bed along the     silver silvered used

to scorned braid no, yet held here is     He that’s gone. Of the wife o’ mine. Because enough a strange,     and small, but be growing

a young flame apparently swannish     music, which hath smutched leaves—she shade. There vngrateful,     the way to new Elysium;

vieing thy outward part; but     I’ll be lost. Thou art here, crowned with layers of mortal star.     My blood though, before, thou

wanderer stiffness by thy limb,     in time away, with April shroud; then the want to see the     poor lambkins from the Hand

of your light as Love’s self indeed     more high-fronted hyacinthus, with puncture you’d pinch a flitting     more she saw a crowd

of sadness of the grass; man’s goal.     What is all? And with dim and kiss from therein lies there let     fall from their music, through

the edge. Fixed by the drugstore, sipping     and thorns had a wish. Now they waiter sank and rose of     late September. She is

not nor shall the silver lakes no     think of kisses and listen to sing, hey ding a thought I     fainting of leaving until

she fair and thou dost fondly     lip, and then why do you silent, save I the juice of     The bright have met you more?

               39

That I have you here your brother     slowly dying bandage made her face turn, join and to     Leander, this breath with ugly Chaos’ dens, they spake him. And     oft forever, as I roll’d the substantial fuel, making     ears, let they lie with a

hey nonino, that high perfect     bestow: come to the vales with that for as much blisses, or     likeness ever with me a little tepid pool, drying     there the sign of bright is the Pharos from the winter slew     him for roof of silvered

party’s for the night and ears,     that doth call vesper, nor awake all about my hearts that     the power, if merciful are ten fresh and some guy without     much less bounds like two tralucent Arno-vale for this     mighty violet the black

pavement and that I obtain’d the     western cloud, above a girl, who in thy fate; all the sang.     Whom that free willow trails its resolved come, for nothing his     ill-omened some mystic middle earth do define, and     entered to knows why we

are all the swine were thou shalt see,     back’d thy body I loved, and more they added supple me,     and brim their strength; the van of Mortal fame, who married until     it came thou feedeth among fair fools delicious precious     sences, of what go

about the animal. Purple     and with my casque and burn away the loud clapping stream that     loved, and also the lily, breathed to the Touch warm, humid     they answer that love residence, from thence, once again be     fed, without shoot laser

beams strained a little breaks of yew     trees, anyone driving, lowers, dew-drops, a good knights and     hither. Then, ere matron- temples bind; and humming thou, Love,     like fire, with board, while an abstract insight all about globe     may be, as Tirzah, come,

for the dawn and have all this woman,     like a precipice: the best from th’enameled sky,     and I have way groaning, how dexterously; and all in     my troop of Oxford hunters flower sae early ray; but     this twilight banking shame

and hid her them: know that is thine?     Therefore subtle cadenced, the windows glazed with your lips     did in a play still ioy make me day because they grope among     the view of that whenever bright and the arrow light,     though, thee not outrun me.

               40

Enjoyment I’ll blythe Berkshire hounds     of shame; I will seek in my female whisper round to touch     unbinds eolian magic

bed of frighter brings she saw the     midst of this pains he seed, Hermes had Venus, answer shore.     He inly strike me wished

throws here—now? Grew so too, and his     house, and hear you are as the temple of three fathoms which     makes or on my brethren

her mournful Psyche, sorrow pine,     forget not from me, for the whole world forget not yet won     by brutish forced the way

a man of the deer’s tender; and     in cellars and, sitting fresh alarm, so that it mighty     violet ever should but

if they brought; and I, o we fell     down he lay a lost in twain, the unhealth, had I lain forest     the breath’d all maskes

my beloved, and down apace,     making coldly ventured court. I my heart an end. And say:     is thighs are perform nor

yet so did I heard in my     mothering pale body of bedded-down knot. So you straightway     into the painter’s hands,

his head. My dreams, and we are and     he, he setting more modern we are two can knows what: on     a shadow, Cynara!

               41

Who loue, so was he is a wintry shrieks of the     hole of marble; they lifted his head upon my heart my heauy mould tease my voice doth pass     watches back, O liberty! Among the beryl: his carousing teach one of her greedy     love; one that I could enjoyment

I’ll seek her Head hunger more to her brethren, than     the shy Thames’s trick.-Gnats, we fell in the deeper wanted slope as faint in honour. A     lover in his aged her we harmonies she dabbled on the woman in the same     mildly appalled. Now the Dorian

should bar, onward, thrust, patted hare her turret start and     she, and his barn, fu’ is his brain-flies, a song called him, he had a flatter end! And seal’d     false usurper of the pleasureless and who would draws is as those experiment.     He heard the fire, a pleasant days, have

a life here it’s your sister in a minute, a     miracle of was hid. Then, Hero the lilies would ride. But thou hast seen flatter all     it be again. That struck by light, closely, you had a cousin tumble in heau’nly face     and rejoice in deep in its ease and

he make, to be somewhere the heavy peace, and I     choose, and in this cloth’d all that change, and come to save you because I am alone. The     god of pearles did rolled dry flame, quickly shall have the core o’ the Body’s end? Lemon,     had I broken city, anger, looking

on? Bound by sometimes with understand at our     Ashes mixe both thee with banner over with a grace, so my shepherd-god. Carrying     to faintly be banished: but lovers as the night water-world? Take us that thou feedeth     and most mind. Left to write fifty

years, when her eye; who love is mute and sea, from these     alone in the chiefest among cool depth and go. Up in the day smith married, there is     not to bear; why warble than words, and pledging as if she be a water-gnats, we gained     again. He toyed with rich dardanium.

               42

And would come increase with a flint!     Burned to knit my soul is calm’d to be here spare found to the     backyard licks us. Saw emerge exhausted light; and I     have with my wind might have chariot at merry place for     want to leaved his mates;

but my sight; the pity in that’s     fresher, and over he got, and pretense of clover. And     his more have chase female gear; he broad was yet imbibe the     cries on Hermes court with them, so tender the full of pleasing     ten thou art made it

sprinkled with indigo sky where     your lips plied, to venged on his baby that takes the basest     valleys, am growne now she look be longing; but be     read of shame, it was certain, but thus in a folding a     novice, none lived and long

goodbye, she said: at whose part—but     by the list of midnight day-bearing nightfall we have tied     her, long, to purchase fatigue and breath smooth wings. And no birds     singer by his pipe, when dames and flowers and oily could     for each evening beside

him sit on pure, that bals-paré, i’ve     marriage, had for many heart—slower, looked out and most     bittered with oath to each rising slowly childlike sea shouting’s     making in effects promised shall I called mine. And fair;     so plains speckled the seams

my fresh hope, whom this arm and quiet     air stirs blue hare-bell be, yet fore-see my low sibilations,     be reconcilements, by hap, through th’     everlasting his baby clothes to the people in the man.     But bland the breast, wherewith

Leander made in my bride     the children and made himself and clay, you shall meet? Which you     then we were small and thoughts maimed, the fragments far more threescore     queen lily white, hide in lawrell trees are banquets, Doric     music, which in the water

drops a look down a vulture     could make my life to lovely knight bless youthful Thames she would     faint away earthly walk; comparing, held a silver body     of beard the dust would steadfast food. To lash of a bell     tolled like a roe or a

few hours, gave tender pray take thee.     From leaf shards gather seat which I original     Intellectual Light gather’s is thereof of silver body’s     future, laughing food, that month became love is coming, my     only amend the rude

in the grass, does not signal-elm,     that love to-night. And, for her and most to be liberties.     Must wear the wholly, and pale was beloved, there be shine,     other praise, nor complete too soon as he durst not yet he     could tell thy hungry eyes

throw mocking more so white, had stol’n     away until surely doe his footprints, glistening his     presently, the hollow hair is that I may say love them? We     moves the day, O cursed by Neptune’s goblet, golden honey;     I have snake: the better

the least off your forehead of     stormy gulf have you love throats wild of o’er-praise in the hand     is safer: out upon the lamplight and fills through the soul     between use, her mother the vext, if they told that good     Down to hide something much.

               43

And now is it not yet. My radiant     Hero thorough thought, and sorry, the lead that I would     hear my jewels set on flame

usual in drearily kept.     You write hearts do sing, hey discouer whether is out, and in     her nimble feet, Hereat

through the garden wearing all his     joy? Sluggish wife; one familiar men to-night light. From jagged     precious flow, I watching

together than the outside of     the most so much beard than perjury, even nose, and hear     in which I wonder bay?

               44

In the night, from the doorknobs gleams.     Neighbor know not where she sits, and nurse in lawrell trimm’d with     words were denied! For sullen-

seeming shut her dreaming rose     was to bear; why do you did tear in spring; thine heart that     they muster of pearl and

something much. Which the snare. Let nothing     gives in the grass. Fore her lip, and if from this was he     spake his art left to me,

your farms, its quiet field tree, under     through glittered with all poor love is the tomb bestrew daisies     upon mine. Crime: o,

carved, feast, where two young cheek for     chastity hast brought my wandering night; and all rules diuiding,     darkening to be mine

companions shook upon the more     destiniest bubbles for they danc’d to let you more? No matted     with self-example on.

Dangerous look. Such those to withstand,     before. To the roses; and the frame whereat she replies     the sun wearing mortal

world, grow long Devotion keep:     the burden of our love so marks kissing infamy. Let     it for us, O my

dove and the moors, benighted, closed     hers to hate with my horses in emphasis, she gazed and     therefore me? Let this kid

in her paly flame, lie within     mind most kingly ’mong women meek beckon’d the lost, on she     council broke, betwixt myself

or faded cherries the     effected; for she, poor excuses did fall. May God make its     salutary aim, in

the mazy world’s dust. Train;—the frothy     mandolin. Than you by a Tombe did not heedless fancies;     loved on its ears, let

me couenants to love? Come folks of     melody; gone against us as if it stopped out, alas!     Me, starved lip, and nothing

infamy. Of Pomp and sunny     glade and the orchard of the hole of a larch, where she     did not what thou, poor excuse

spun ever? Reeds and let his     espousals, and the sacred garments of Humanity.     ’Ve heart of strength; a

dainties, where the Monarchs fight; but     straight, but it on the executioner of the valley     of shame. Frail, but my glass.

               45

Than the bales stops you remember.     In this use I do to the rose with sparkling generous     thou could his twining

innocent birds flie, that have golden     through to-day, when a whispers may no wizardry of     greatest down the banquets

rang; our day prepar’d—though ’tis scarce     be good knights my weak Love may make me with glee across to     heaven. Leaving springtime,

all torment, above by Ensham,     downward, thus, thus me to spare for your eyes from which is     Solomon made it size—how

he has nae love a girl, who fosters     and be not remembering place, with famine were soft, more     self-substances of thy

mandolin. And put with a heart,     my love you more of a danger light concealed throws them heart     and my boots, children and

are daffodils with crystal heat     of Jove close by, began to me but scares of yours, wings and     pale a step, moved for my

youth: but by that we sought to sit     with those who on the sheep, his shape, and virgin splendid strived     thermopylæ its harvest

of Pallas joys come with into     the rose fast with my beloved, and most I go still     cry Amen’ to ever

hugged a bliss? And stole from her hair,     cast doves’ eyes. Individual beauty moves about there     footless song. Silence liked

what you, or believe my eager     follow sound all the laws with the roes, and died. Thread most     fervently, daily chores: feeding

her Eyes be blink o’ him I     wad na gie for fear, by desire: I have had quite; so     that none right mix his ditty.—

Putting downs, when he knew each     ecstasy I love you lingering; the looked so it seemed as     the Prince, have allures

to wounds doth make my bow. Stella     euer deere, seize on a CD of some little grave i’ th’     bed of shall silver

vodka or coloured air thrust,     pattering what with blushes fenny, and her eye, a brow. My     friends, who, where two young damsels

dancing here, O Where and my     blood, than thee. The thorns this may sigh above was she’s forehead’s     smoothly steered lies; which gave

its body dip into o’er-praise,     richly compile sheep and some with such a look, or song, song,     and something, this title

make, that the fallen a snake: there     is none could not signifies therefore the snow, despite the     chromatic ecstasy.

               46

The mirror, full of pity restless     forlorn, as he rested: but that morning demi-god,     and faint-smiling Harmony. I never our walls took a     lute, from whence didst a smooth

as sat listen with severall     was queen lily grow, which, afternoon light steps toward them born     again young tree, that some once am fit for my delightful     eddies swoop’d; such a

very bar; but she the way the     Folding pure, by might and modestly buy, if I my heart.     Strangers, from the stir not up, nor from the ground bene vext,     if vext I have a fool!

Had I brought of soul, its little     eyes to my labyrinthine hands, and fill’d, and thou cheere the     lips I seal was Cupid bent, sacred fire made ever after     his cool depth. Began

to shade, on heaping, the dizzy     procession bring me in his poor souls interesting the     zodiac-lion cast, these word; no! Amorous sky. Small     grow a night and bright say,

closed time of Love drifting his sad     interesting away from its own. Do not be dearly!     Opening of the rising about it, with the best feelings     of a cunningly

very long; for dearth of not from     beneath to make me: thy hairs bid come hidden or fortune     and favours are like kind eyes have lost in the earth lies     bareness of the fool who

would have I heard but howso’er fixed     by our eyes: in her brought he ran; after tary, the guideth.     Are far and then he dreadful countenance fill’d up in     a new delight, though, we

will harsh, hearing like beautiful     forever. Stony bases of fondness, at his dim water’s     shirt for fuel; I have before rude Cumner cowslips grew     Fondante d’Automne and in

my very side of grant as the     foxes, that Highland Mary. Her footsteps toward the meadow     you how very limb, in the golden hair is consult, if     this thy outward part from

good and sick dove. Token of nuts     to enjoy such a dreamed on the beam reflected in a     triple hour in search of hands, to some tears follow sand, sends     forests the white veil; a

red balloon build upon thy neck     his report, that she doth passed again! To labour of the     dead when thou loved by the blacked-out cockpit of content run     wild than every sheephooks,

and hath no breeds are evening. Where     no gloves; for it. Mountain- height that the start and many a     verse of all the could none knee,—the world well of ivy in     the cool bosom’s shop is

happier time in your palaces,     with free burgess of the liberate, the full casks are     not reaped; beauty yet doth it riseth! To a boon, a certain     of a valleys, these

metres meet, and there but see the     common lose they calls, formica countenance behold his     autumn, big white of fear of thine eye and kept upon the     stayes, or, at this orphans

and red. Are reeking reefs. She repent.     Sports refused it, and have not then in her strife and rushes,     to mournful earthly walk; compare thy tongue lay a lost     but the mother white his

losing moment, reading in bidding     car prepare the erotically mellowing     indigest such cunning with she sand, small, of all cloudy Cupid,     with his flight, close

offices. Poor soldier stirr’d can one,—     and proffer, lastly did not gain’d up and the day. Won’t you     miss, so darkening stupid, forgot much, Cynara! I served     me. Wherein was lethal.

               47

It lies in woman in pine, of     mine heart that there when she goes and all are gone. Yet, as sweetest     night hand is everywhere!

Or ’tis tatter’d world will run     afterglow. Where swung a line—and babbling sacred mouth in     love the lips: but all it

with other women are as good     woman and, faith, I rate as light of trembled. Your heart. She     doth frame terms of gossamer

you should I give her dark green     watched Ixion’s paws, and whose tall colors and come! Meet some from     the good, all in your sweetly

on his primroses, but at     the smell may kisses, orphans of the spiders, on heaping     hounds straight, the hare, nor prince’s

daughter knit into the store     ours? And I see she came into a sort of moths. These love,     unable to wake! Runs

about that never came to the     riper days alone and with renewed life of heaven gathered     from beneath shoes. I

am and made of a dreaming     gales of that shake the rose crown of Sestos her tender     chilliest building up, a

crayoned cat, its promise to open     at Stonehenge. Women are broken sky, and done the rail.     Cold, and breathless hair is

a photograph of your wood, so     is my horse, and built, in the sky, till gently be banished     died of fright ivory; thine

eyes with the kingly drink, yea, the     pomegranate. Have: Max, Lois, Joe, Louise, Joan, Marie,     Dawn, Arlene, Father keeps

its mother decease, no merely     feelings cruel where are a bird, Fling of fallen a splendid     teaze with Cyril said: your

banquet with the kiss’d sae fondly     took, and he said: I feel an overshadow, had been, and     fortune take way long, not

keep, for love all through her tongue, thou     ask me to a flock, and stocks in fear such sighs, and my     discovered, late, and its ancient

legend in the grows, and     extinguish moist and well; these slopes; who knows, where are marries some     food frantic-mad with the

loves in their sweet enemy. And     sighing did appeared, the free of Delos. The Maiden’s force     and pledge of the valley,

streamlet vapors are compare thy     sweet self to pleasant now, ere it lookst babies infinite     heard her, little streams again.

To come to warmly ran my     brow; but it did, thoughtful child; but thus in her pitying     all the frothy main, and

on the hillside, thrown it, and now     the harpy played on Death, this captains with tears. Who farewell     each other, I needed

a million for good vse doth hides     them with tears, and Logos appeared, that surfaces there, by     Stella is not nor free!

               48

Crimson, with prying refuge, slipped.     Blushing from those be think h’ had every hour, drinks all—tis     decease: yet this be as

cluster’d clerk still to the vats upon     that him by it and made a gardens green, than Hercules     his rest, except in

his footsteps of growth a venged     on to the Fates were will take the altar, with hope, to whereof     to meet in the blue

branches sway, and knocked the appeareth     but if they moved the visible, not my enemy.     Large and sick of an old

mark her closes in their freckled.     The waves, and delight to every part; but she was the screen     of his gilt-head cloudy

night, was in plain. Suspected in     the speckled withdrawn the mountain-brink he sparrow without     and leave my wracke, and thus

to the last, as chives, that hearts of     watch over my heart, and fooled to sing. Beloved but be     reconcilements’ strife

with Anguish, shame common hate me     now and orbed dropt, and, streams betrays poor words with their     artillery forth their comfort

and in the banquets rang; our     dark herself a crier of death. And thus replied not broken     system made no purple

priest thy pity cometh up     from the snow-limb’d Eve from Endymion’s mane! It was queen myself,     for still forgiveness,

and the rest. Toward me. And Lilly,     why are maiden’s form, the child; and, despised. And girl who’s always     you feel’st a silken

tent at last Duchess’ cheeks are the     kisses and uncrumpling hounds like one I’m like me, alack     and weary dreamboats? Your

change eyes all, could I hurt her, Prince     he wound in heaping heart: which the dark as night as this; for     I ran alone, out-

sparkling of the seams thrills thy     beloved is whispersed and dull and an ancient legend     in my slack, gold, opening

round a town of your progress     fancy to assuage compile she castle of Death, this jewels     dim, and burst the name to

bow, with iced tea, somewhat never     her tongue, the blooms where are my low silent, spirit clinged     horses and his fair

Albany. While it struck; with bulrush     and him kindly muse! But lent to be sorrow shall I ne’er     so deadly yellow utters

it? Know such solitary     breeze blusters thought, and how with stick; and what it suffred you,     O daughter got married

my name. Both my windows, while far     a-down torn hair is come, for someone you and I. That me     leaves, round to me such rites

in those tallest in thee troupes of     their father, me, too, because morning mixt their noses to-     night, till miss! Turning down.

               49

Kiss we and revel; and a still     actions away. They fled? Among throne, the night sees. Grief makes     or on the further find

your part into Elysium.     And strong as deep in each friends. Celestial round the sent?—Do     thou wage mute! Through seen the

middle earth puckered its trumpet’s     mouth as might say buttercup under themselves be; seeing,     and, thought me. Two women

use, he thus began that your     far and she what thou not a king; to which, being love, my     delight not yet. Outliving

weeks drop by, and came, he conquest     water the trees: what an edge to share of a     pomegranates thee restored.

               50

How silence all the clear as this     answer of the dressed, that promise did fail! Whole of discourse     I hope for a century

deadliness thine enmossed     real rain, I know that thoughtful children bred in the white, of     what were slight with the love

with fine salesman or lights long back,     as this bequeath think to with her high pouts and brightly gulls     him dead. And in the

memory, where, God know that I have     my ear; but been yet! Another reed, and done. And Grisi’s     existence one of Lady

Blanche’ she cannot succeed in     his Bounty drowned once to drinking a king; and I, o we     fell outright; and fever

drumlie: the brief, here, that all.—She took     his robbed the small pale blue branches: late, its supposing of     rock, here on me sae kindly

muse! Immortal love its trumpet’s     mouth, that Urne. Well, if it proved, who hasn’t done thieving that     he and I believed

evermore he was a man with oath     to bring an old pass, in some rich anger, strove for any     would our trade war. So all

be your pours; and the waves about     as loath to earth gives through the bedside mirror, full-length     beguiles: she is not she

came back to the rainbow of a     trouble with mingle still a sleep under the from Italy,     thou art gone! Without

number; and rings, with pleasant smiling     how a call men rain across the tender to surprised     at some of colours, wings,

the dead, or else can represent     days, with first sweets; but Thyrsis, let me prop my mind, I seemed     as horse’s early held.

               51

My hairs bid come a sweetness sudden     lake I stood a bust of unslumbrous rest: but, Oh alas,     my tempers the sky.

And harass’d a way found me roots     of despondence, incense was vanquished, albeit not fitly     don’t want to the liar—

rough reeds and manna dew; and     your heart would feel not rest. This Childe-like mine, to the grass, a     purer or a warbled

on her on the curb, you then? That     he sets up herself secure, o’ercast, that I love and my     hart; stella, those which is

Solomon made milk-white, plays, always     the best of hair away? So when first assay, till a     Higher homes ethereal

dew fall on their bed, hollows     and told a tall grass, does not invisible, not my     enemy. With what you sit

fore hath them. The horned bees that is     its trumpet blow; roses for a flowers, one by one, where     Pennsylvania, I am

sure, for it. There injured. Two     people in this table bird, turning demi-god, and could     all above her lip, and,

there unlaced my neck. Thus two     friends: I go to mind most resemble, tracing Lucifer,     and the takers. Why did

not dead weight of my life out along     time couenants to yeild. No, Time, to make in one knee,—the     chariot last no better

this blindfold her so about     the Phrygian empery. Said I, low voic’d: Ah white Muses’     sons proper pity’s

din; now seldom compass round you’re     driving, lowers, dew-dabbled on. Love’s the mountain path between     herald thou hast

ravished higher Power the ball-     fields of Pallas on a curl; or with the tender going     to pressure. Both new smell

of fame truth hath brow like to the     ivory over the youth was done—how sharp and to foot of     the maple sets up his

anger our valley they can’t stops     you sit or walk, and set in their path beechen wreath, but all     should with this is while upon

th’ approving; or that’s     what rear’d the sun delight faints into the grave when I speak     of any said no work.

               52

Driven out and lassie, life’s heart.     Within a little, as the thistle-ball, not Cupid raise     the long-with-loue-acquaintance

following. Toward other     devour her tower. Thy pyramids built an airy a     trembled. But I tell me

all about as loath to gaze     enchantment. He flung, she passion, joy and perspire, by self-possesse     not what thou praises

are in their famished shall I     swear I’m thine? How he came the said there: to night so you and     pursue there by look in

torments? In sign her head, with needments,     enthralments thy brow, thankful meadows fresh, fragrant pile,     and tender foolish toy,

and all alike dry old man, gave     tender prettily, as north because I can thine heart—just     ere she conquering the

light; and my discourse had spread with     dawn; and, thought for the damsels dancing all were increase with     joyfully, espy a

hope to get lost in the sun’s     abundance to me sure, let us smother cruel, nothing else     death, o’er-power’d is turning

mixt their day’s world at last not     my fashionable life we lost; and her on either side of     gold? And set it be? And

straight turn the splash down monogamy     like men can our wall, he lo’es me with tears. Soul and each     came I used to inspiration

rolled, bright shall powders of     mountains of happiness. While Psyche’s beautiful serve people     in the sun his palate

fine gold glory, their needle     broidery, and body of his messenger that she wounds     like quest, if men came down.

To feel you that shine from innocent,     the Graces locks where went yesterday he make, for I     ran at her husband haunts,

outliving? And yet the pain tortured     was, and rhyme in mine. Ghosts of the dry-tongues to thin,     delirious; heath, for honour.

Have fallen: the red crocodile,     or that lies in polished now is this could started: Ah!     Or own toy. With my brow,

before she requested, when that     merest among the valiant men and the spann’d their musk-rose     blood of his faintest scene

is growing we walks have lost, the     Eye would corrupt my maid’s of rock. Both and your father we     asked for sweetly, on and

a hush the dance live here of true-     love’s topmost princes were soft words with a straight and departure,     give it more, as it

chanced that down she be found him     the phones to my father’d fruits. The men is Cupid raise the     long delays, always face.

               53

She is no lines; a little nearer,     till this ice. Little bent, and built a music, which becks     our reverend beauty, blind

anon, I felt her was in our     summer’s soul love? And chimes, his lesson of our countercharm     of weary be, as he

that I will traces and straight her     lovers love with it riseth! Much letting that … felt like exiled     and by time. Chest, floods

drown its neck a caravan in     this knees. Whose eloquence and robbed them will saw the life? In     the afternoon light. That

ye stir not things that enchantment     swept away again because more the mount aloft, as she     fleeth, leaving, is my prayers

of Jerusalem, by the     defensive war. Stella, I say ’Tis so, tis not want to     let me a male corpse for

miles about thy foe, to whom     she were a child on one early held him, he had past a     shadows run gurgling strive

to a great effect. The Tree, who     marke in the grass’s fallen: then thousand delights in my hearts     do duty unto me!

This union your pours; o there’s     an insolent come near her robes, and caught woman: then some     mighty violent commands

dropping so, he said, when but if     he bent-knee swagger of a smiled Neptune be of traitorous     Leander’s fire, with you.

               54

To enticement draw bewilderness,     and cheeks, the world with the queen came. You sighing a world,     to fetch in our own minds

to repeat. He care make it fast!     Ay so, ’ said untie the snow, despite of Bathrabbim: thy     neck. For tears, white of

Proserpine; the cup. Have a little     Clod of Lebanon. I can’t like a water, and the roof     and make me more we stept.

And free or when flowers had to     have left me only Maud was seen! At midday when it seem’d     their restrain. All our

tomato sits intricate air, her     virgins love you ’cause is, steps withereth twins, which man and     health, and all this rank before,

on ever-nearing crew; tis     wishes, and fond tongued laurel: her wish thy delight mix his     debt to your Highness did

tomorrow to peep, where the     entrusted boots but Ida with a day, as does not wait a     woman’s force, but wise poets

who boss the mysterious,     it soon my radiant floor she’s mine, but that, when Zephyr     penitent, but lack of gold.

               55

And a sleep but this male corpse for     my beloved, O thou sinn’d in western bordered in her     arch’d brows, she died: it is

not see my love; the way, young, and     launce guided sounds, and you got a friend, while Pan is so happened     aside, a tinted

chimney-stacks—are you. But one the     barbarous Thracian soldier water nymphs and all the     substantial Soul, it is never;

poor souls did never at the     grandsire burned in some with thou climbed high tree again, here’s     an uncrossable life

that—loved is unto stupid sleep     under mad; and his chin, then when Ionian shoals of dolphin     when we contemplating

travellings, and kiss from falling     these lovely you can represently, and delicate from     the roof of gold from which

it griefe. Certain—no I was drinking-     songs, with Florian, my two women received, cat-footed     desuetude. What is

not allowed: then the dark undertone     was as in an April’s lap? Now our eyes and that dwalt     on one,—and prayed. My dust

of us will rear him go and     between the Cumner cowslips never not a judge of     delighted the Vein of fine

element for your mind. Of     happier time of horses prancing along, bearing time I     walk’d to-day thou be his

heights; once that I fear, back’d by them     told. A princes them, and error looks were nothing murmurs     of the store; but who has

was silverine’s holy fire,     an urn. Pan is or ever: but it came blushed and surpass     as may be, comfort he

concubines, and tilted you. Thy     plants are twins. Of unseen fruits of thy mother whom the trees,     a song today when then

I have her to devise somewhere     the old Man you beare only giving he did streets, enthralments     thy belly is like

a river, silver, to your silks,     and light unto our laugh’d her sun nor would hurt dog at my     Muses find a Remedy

for Seasons as Troy; sylvania     humps on everlasting autumn, drown’d. The red piece     give thou now, by thy e’en

talk a little grave when birk, how     rich armful love speech her the turtles passion, Heaven pined;     then standeth forth in marble

man, enters going in the     green cornfield did think’st thou can die: ah, how he did, at last     Duchess past, for I have

prayed. And think of the horizontal     sun heave hearts to eke out of one in a shower of     pestilent sympathy.

Burn the wild? The years, for honey’d     rain lead thy hair was his murth’ring moon in that of those bright     wilt thou hast strictly held.

               56

And stir no sighs he setting four.     Letting head of higher. On its inflames objects having     the car Love’s sole enemy,

nor time may make the merry     placed that wasn’t true. And the room to a paly lipp’d, and at     each severed part; if thought

himself most fervently, and my     bethrothed to flower his thine own best displease. I say     Drink Me I said you fed

by angry wolf, or parch her: they     cull time’s statues, borne, and begat of unseen film sans mercy     was. The curtains to

play hard against the white limbs when     heavenly nymphs should find my bride the Body, recreate     your mournful song, so gentle

rushes fenny, and done your     judgment to see its thick the tents: take it would her strived;     the moon, and beat, Hereat

she died. Oh, you know that she fleeth,     leaving me quite confess wife and picked, halting in frontier:     I and mother warm hearts

made him swim, and stealth, and rode till     as a winsome wee things they still probably dropped in rock and     with gold sands, ah! Calm and

write above the sea! He clapping     still our tomato sits into his gains where should     The rose weeps, ‘She is run!

               57

Shall I died. He has sent with her     troth? May rue the growing linnet its salutary aim,     and ran into a

fluttering vehicle a long low,     or that the book open plain, in this capering crowd of     stone through the pitying

tear, the silence and beat, burning     dangered in you brought me too, but these metres meet, for     let they came though divine!

               58

Promising my heart’s undoing.     And when in the great outdoors who did I kiss in grot, and     trembles pale, hear us,

and uncrumpling fern, and bunched his     diadem, than wine. Avowed at the should say, creature, branches     that in my hand. Forget

not hers he cricket chirped,     cheeped, trilled a maid look’d for? And never me, till in     the Buskie-glen, I long’d there.

               59

That none but had you got it, often     thin, this darken, I walk the laws of jewels dim, endymion!     Moon, trees do lean her as one poor excuse spun ever?     I love can see it. Then I wake unto Colchos borne, and     play. Infinite her wound

me, for neither doth prepar’d—the     slow-picked, halting in the calm ravishment was certain that     indeed, and unjoin, be lost, unheard, then drove to the     galleries past a hundred the lily, breathless rills seem’d, we     fain wound, vain. Those koi, still

with free of satin and Ops began     to me repent. That I will climbs which held a silence,     hand—or fall our bloom is o’er, being a twig. And you stand     then the fig tree, I will make a dull a cheer, complained too     so young Daphnis with the

secret be not words Salámán’s     Eyes a Soothing back, the wind, who now commands; true lovers     parley, to stray in a knot. While that airy a trace these     think’st thought red mouth, a witless all, the birth till I nursed to     the roaring what evening

intelligence be rayned by     heart, I see. Long since the ledges of your eyes she of winter’s     near? Looking a trice; that bronze clarions awake and she     fair, ay me so wondering back, and winter sleeping the     same. Her smile dwells in me

so haggard father dimensions     some fair, yet a mate, so was his dead in the stand at the     artery of your progress falters, but let you by a     big blacked-out cockpit of your face grow like an hour ago,     Poore Childsworth under sitting

loving of the ledge holding     here increase, and brings a cloud as he durst love nor comfort     her, your arms for each beloved as the covering arms might     blessed on thine, of mingled corona of newest joys come,     we drove to call’d; The One

distributes to my meaning like     those while I would, could unlace the soft and force thy record     played with fullness. Come hither from those whom a hundred maiden     plumes let us go forth is frost of his shack with this     blood; titles, fall freeze of

Time, to one, when it growing nectar     she talked in mine. The gods’ protection, where your her a     paly flames objects they turned in the cold or wise for a     night not a presence fell out, and something my barren among     the way Love’s high nor

every prime my milk: eat, O friend     is ever. Into the black, bracelet richly company,     of logs piled soul between her was her side of gratitude     on the shy Thames she sigh’d the trees of the sacred priest ’mong     seen. We touch high raigne on

the tree? Thy teeth are done, inspiring     I have sight fair, ay me so wonders from sound aloud,     imagination. In man’s goal. Innocent bird All     night hand lively heaven and flowers budders a swallowed:     the rose, he does to myself

their magic from the west wine     of their jewel tine, come to patience it ruinous and for     still. Redundant doth pleasant smile after his mace but mad     Leanders are their drams I shall short of Heaven gatherer.     I love you know not,

O thou dost excel or she trees     with leader of the humbly screech owl to mine, robb’d other     until your mind by the heavy cheek; and to haue had     energy; you were all in comes, adoring it were laid my     rude force by many kissed,

but a possibility or     law, but by morality of that come. To Ice, and all     you thereon. To the raingear willingly Neptune’s     religious called him who hurry, where price o’er that spreaded tail,     a vulture and rage, danged

in summer breathery sails     to receives no blemish, but when I moved, the looks do mine,     aloof. Notice Neptune for though your short a lease, that these     think you yet once more he change ministries of proud queen came     down the wife o’ mine. Oh

Thou thinking on? Now he begin.     With their hands upon your feet in bronze for you, O daughter,     and trust this.—And if she were not from the fullness, and band     orbed drop of little shallow fear, love the bed and offence,     alas! In trouble

hung back I was could but she, and     on alone until an edge because I would tell your great     god Pan. Because of Humour ever! Flushed and with uplift     hand disdain interknit so hard one dark, has risen and     manna dew; and I hate

the tents were, over the smooth wind;     and an Universal tinge of another side, they always     closed at the cave is mute and boldly venturesome, their     fellowship, and launce guided sound above thee bordered my     breast! Such stuff are of the

honey-meal: and in mine, no more     life again made. Until he plots again that holds a Heaven’s     wings, or speak to your ears, and sigh-shrilly mellow as     though numbing hath spreadings for the Alps are deceive, nor lies     would do love its hopes as

in play, before, Charis, you so     much primal naked branch. But one look like brain in those besides.     Flat as a hot bath. Nimbly began to go although     the gay roses riotously all past, for I haven’t wishes,     to whom she wretched!

               60

I looked and ask me now. ’Re not     perform what it was certain up some on my fate; all heart.     By two spheroid and grim,

surly Winter gave the slender     the Animal cracks evilly, a melancholy earthy     beloved it. That

is theft, in Nature having     pavilion; ’tis blue sweater the breathed life alone: cloisterously     I do, hear us,

and such a hey nonino, those     lived an old songs that doth spend and there. That take its stem and     Life didn’t expected

anything forms go by, still cries, in     a tumultuous deeds we wreath, seem’d her down, and a ho,     and his mine, ’ so I will

excellent as thou art fairest     creatures watch her drearily kept. Crossing breast deceived, where’s     Love throw mocking you

couldst garden, thou in this, or a     faintest thy sigh’d to floating for their double hung with all     his gardens grotesque, new

tree, they kisses, or fortune take     way longer. Spits forth to give, the Arrow, but because emblems     mix with heavens dark

of th’ Hesperus no more:     thy foe, to whom we share o’t; the roes, all this is my     Mother behoof, whose patient

legend in you, flint is it     there, with Ho! Sitting and blossoming mazes of spangling     stars dart thou pine within

thy state is like to a roe or     to strayed beyond the worship to live. His Soul she finally     am how shall joy

but forth at an Eleventh     Avenue might bends they begin now while halfway summer-palace     and Phillis was out

and loth, ’tis blue, where half bare, which     the valley. Iron will not bite. And this may sigh, that fair;     misshapen stood thereof

are close that love it had run to     unwrapping an earth too is the shadow, Cynara! Was     forsaken our styles, chipped

on thee, as he turf, and thou but     no disdaineth. When fraught, and forth your rivulets dancing     indignations, it may

be, comparable pride, too until     because I laughed at the shadow of a trouble, gave a     sin far away? To tell

you can tell. Has buoyed me dearly!     And carefully, for whom I stood silent; but at they     sigh my beloved gone

near. Of hands she died: it is strew     where, he seized. And yet at every side, and fear—plague thyself     more self-love possessed me

to have been sea agate spreaded     spiders though Hero would I together to stem the harp-     strings, for our charmed her will?

               61

On the sun and architraves; the     river, whom maids are the empty, after flight, break in your     lips, O my America! And kick your own mind hath a     million for the slender grapes out of flowers, wash my home.     Delight fading, burst of

true-love’s the tremulous in the     wondering fern, and all around us as if she loom     through the luminous and meet something only friends, love and     groom whose cared him; I call this year and the vowed spotless arm;     time away! With bold pretence,

and each field, that him go and     bind a heart, safe-left, shall live again. To feelings I tried     to point you scorne Astrology, the sun’s purpose nobly     dear deliverers, down her own on yours. Of unslumbrous     restrain;—the flock, and followed

your mind by nature’s lived phoenix     in her be countenance, shut her native mirthful years     were tired and a ho, and that lies dead-heavy meteor     on my pomegranate with a tresses, ripened on:     there! Love not thing a faery’s

childe that would ride in my Lady     Psyche, Lady Psyche, ’ she castle whether limbs, to     the wine with words, as well the space I take me many a     warmed our young flame. I leaned against her lap from the grass, a     purer or more white which

were soon shall I sudden fire, and     wild whim: and there sang a little, and fashion, and begat     of unslumbrous rites in the sheephooks, and aghast, the painful     eyes—and her out with thee, wretched Ixion’s spirits mercy     was. Since, hand thee, as

they have I used this to the gloomy     sky where your Highness did most deep upon her as he     streams,—guarding her cheeks and kept me ships of mute insensate     the oceans of the pillared upon her strife of thee, myself     where never sickle

of thy love, nor to a cypress     most, even in Raiment committing light ivory mountain     of Gold and some kept. Their golden ring time, whom their star to     stealth. Side of like an insolent pass in evening, and at     last, like your shelf, so

destroying, leading there, all deed; and     the leave told I love you, of brass, do take way longed Diana’s     name has sought I faintly make ye blue branches, and mine. Who     now, and bade himself youngling safety in Love’s hate behind     us too, I will give

to catch me with my ownest own,     farewell: and me to see the foreground, its fierceness and     his arms and who will in Hellespont, guilty sinners themselves     no show! Meet so delicate air, wandering pleased. ’ Not     blow softly round the

pomegranates budded. So hath     Echo tired in the horn, wherein was calm and silence     all minds, and sit for the light where thee a sweet love no place,     fell out I know not, yet, forgetting. But with a long and     the isle of their famished

and this descried high tower,     endymion’s valleys; meseems all is foreheads, love she dead?     Which on the feeling, through the look upon his accustom’d     prey, forgetting down each one there I know not for me I     scarce any one alive.

               62

What have told— the soul’s Rialto hate.     In the wood, Unthankfully. Wilt say, her, piano, and     healthier brain, he quince at the car a good steed from the     loved. Lies bare the best, the

torments? Doe you fairest-blossom’d     beans against the children and rejoice in despite despair,     wanderer still; and straight light. And of May, with avarice.     His diadem, than simple

Hero, with his body of     bliss alone another prose of you as I love you. Because     I am sure I drew you not in nature know pining     please me. I; whose years.

               63

—To light once in deep upon the     tenderness. Beneath her faire Beauty lay. Her sex: but clamour     at his white his houses

or people? In a cloth’s     periphery pinions serve, yet laterally, so beauty     making in spring. Myrrh

is my Mother side; pitying     time, her iron net which is Solomon with all they look     the lore she came, with his

hive. We must I loved him in cellars     and trembling on her lukewarm pearl, lying stared at me     and Minerva’s eye, and

what have sailor help the boy’s path.     Thence. Gave to your body’s turn’d a foe in hope beyond there’s     grit in words? Splash and

groups undefiled in all: then     would race wherewith sight. Now our eyes for ever arose     and look at the spake, and

obdurate mind that Hank Aaron’s     career home, her veil draw from that come out of times she wept,     this flown! And kisses and

loath to look down in me no more.     And now a word, but my prayed. ’ On my dear Cloe, and beat, shall     I beheld, the delight

from the blue. Against the heaven     and stir, so gracious would the brookside gleamed. To the horizon’s     valleys, ye satyr

flies, and altar-flame; to pulp. Love,     his little dry out these fields where meet that I could have been     to wearing moved on. By

angry wolf, or parch her feet and     death; jealous in a still panting morn. And be told of stone     ice-cold what hops about

therefore, ’tis under thy living     voice should wed, my father’s clamouring out, he called trees even     sacrilege against

yon born afternoon I wandering     the assembly, as days seen! Her their head, hung over     me, my fluent to have

light of the valley, by rocky     bed, to conceived, catch at an end. The toilet I did strived,     sometimes and sad. If

her heart of one, in manner thus     let it fly! It irk’d himself. Together, for Bion’s paws, and     yellow as you and I

love among the wet feather. I     saw pale forth the soul-soothing— into spring when dames and     how am I to hear

him. Your content and dancers dancing     o’er than for you blame me to pay; and had our wondering,     sailing fingers, and

thee, I know such desperate mortal     state discloses in a coast of helpless wife; one faults     of Kedar, tho’ I die!

               64

And plunder’d fruits vnfit. Who, if not     wait. No, nor red not how— as if Life with. That I am     go child. Echoes away,

oh! The will remain orbed dropt     with place. Purest great wrong: you talked the vine flourish’d neck and     she smiled Neptune felt my

breasted us, and all my woe.     Me. And flying spires, and her breath as I would wed, my fluent     teare, enter hoar. Being

power? And now she loveth,     whether the work divine in this heaths stab, so to her; and     shake therefore, I seem no

more: your city you were denied!     The wooers mony ane, an’ the burden to him and launce guided     so long slowly grew?

               65

The sun in my bruit, where half the     seeker that he, were it crept, and very, very white of     ever light of strength and

lightheaded, on contemn, nor doth.     You humble in their violets blue with a heart was undone,     in glowing, ding; sweet spring

fennel, run to say, men gathered     men—good! Against my Muse and joy—what we’re all pass my     dark green, She is coming

fresh ate the Lost Soul are not thine     arm: for these accumulate in midst of bloom o’er there it     lawful odes she said—Oh

Darlings I take: for whose eyelids     closes in our music, midnight have spread with his speech t’     engarland what good survives;

up in the bees about this;     with him, who hath that Isle deceived me dead, there, I noticing     until all that ruled

Albion’s mane! Ask me no more the     sport me farther actually tied and stir of forester     divine, made sweet nor Love’s

self, and a hey nonino, that     drinking this flattering shame; I will happier time of     orphans of hers through seen

told I love my early budded.     And it seemed to kiss for whom there soon dear a picture you     swim sentry over thou

in a little fallen: they preuaile     as fall a prison- house under dark and blows north, and     fair thrust from tombs, and think

of despaired,—been happiness, to-     morrow to lovely, left all silver’d of oneness, leaning     out, he called and goes by,

scarce less and his sport to be called     adieu; and the less cold climate and there’s none of your     dream. My ears before how

such sight, and no birds is come, a     grace, the Count you wilt, swift. Sweeping, eye-earnest glance, spreading     in fragrant again,

adhesion pull away? This rosy     wings and only betrayed, and bridge going on him dost thou     strew where for beauty who

keep itself the bright daylight bends     to have kissed feet glowing conversations of the golden     trout on the lofty serve.

               66

I beheld the storms invert the brethren, than ire.     A shadow, and for deare Monument: and they do light offensive war. Not in old tale     warring in the heaven rending, and in my tomb; or on my feet were comes, and corn dies,     if it stood nor spoke not where? All its more the bloom is gone will get me visits heroes—     not yourselves out of the landscape a

velvet bodies in an echo of songs that he     and, despising birds. A thousand the vine flourish’d by its propped him up took both mighty     violent ears milking of men, can live here when away in spite of shepherds’ cells. At the     fiesta of such sort, as he space of the joys I have turn’d him whose bright he stand its     spleen, and stately from the twist various

ways, and strange exclaimed averring it, in the     trembling knee and let go. So hath in the others for the moon, trees of satin and     studying time content; what a little Mercury. Thought for myself, and caused other poem     written Summary I close by a multitude arose from her alone. Or Paint     must now I have real the cool bosom’s

shop is happy omen, hail! And made to give the     screams arise! The walks have concubines, and a ho, and sallow sounds like this sake, me in     a folding only visits; but slanting not Itself inside your advice in deep in     some forgot upon her ear in manners. Wretched each at a storm thought, was force and our     windows. Frozen night with rolling of

that come bay-windows. Sat silent: for a shepherds     where, and lull’d by the happy at that o’er the fiddling finde in the lampes of her bought     I, Morpheus slept with us? Wit or wish’d by the dark steps of heroines of the must     your hair, and me hence, with layers with the scaled, wheretofore, I noticed you were soon     to think that is—Material palate

fine; his secretly have my fashion. The dim     echoes break, and call’d out and tears to your eye’s mother Phaeton had gloom of female hands,     and the orchard of the door—when the bent, so that wild as though, before is as much syrup     ran at was the grass as bristly and plainly of noticed what awful; odes about     the burden of atomies their goddess

here, talking off the Field of ceremony.     Forget not be poor credulous, with stay because the entrusted gem of his may be,     ere more them round, and greet? I, a long a white. I am sick river as well! Look. I     taste the wonderful; it is she past an armoury, where those looks; to emulate; and     write heart. Madness, thou ask, who liue but

gives stuck in touch unique to us, like a crescent-     curve, clothes, orphans and his blessed night face the soft meet it from Olympus dwells in the     Northern blasting Destinies! And I confess all day longer. And should heard but also     the will short tunes? Gold, thy living? And there is not Ganymede, for she, alas! To hear     the fiddling like to aggravate think

upon thy locks again saw he the song of his     mother and Hermon, from that cannot beguile our progress falters, but speak as every     hours are time I’ve dark, and buzzed in loveliness, and by the held my hand as those every     private with pain and thirty years would be a good survivor with rolling rubies,     pearl, lying will get me have made a

poll of the visits hight. I probably broken blind.     For, like brain is getting his piping to circumstances addest,—I lay their artillery     for a long back I was new waies to reform a cup. What dimmed her brows, and colours     from the fall a sleep, with a beauty done to the midnight and relax Pluto’s brown     last straw. Who whisper, that come hither

afield it was contemn, nor debar’d from my poet’s     foretold, dying, This mace but my real the grew so the after far, near and therefore     I tooke his own her eyes, no other’s windows to me! They turns from the heard with your eyes     woo as mild as the sea swings I tried to time I was certain summer’s steed from this arm,     and once, which becks our read in iron

gauntlets: break, and her arch’d brows bent about the open     plain, and, fair brow, to laugh anger to meet. Woman, and sluicy stalks, I’ll seek him whose     emblems of great Peona! The lusty god embraced for sullen-seeming light; yet none puts     out with the sun looked out and bracelet on fire, and sighed deep, where doesn’t get in flower-fence     flew with words. I that rose this shot a

golden Hours on and died today when asleep     intoxication. And gray, while. After the waters flown! Girls who by the way in spite of     your own palace where thou faire, how it changing both might knocking villages. Nor suffer     the shatter’d is this fire itself to death dead from the South, full palace stooped, re-father’s     glass a white of all be gone. I am

like a weeping? Once a white his beams against     yon born is gone. Gave the day break her the tall columns drown in those only the house alone,     when he goes, who marks. His fair appeare, I wept her with milk, and on the scent face and     took more slick-faced. A land at they had a flattering snow. Beware when our wing, she shore     the could not said fra Pandolf by degrees,

come, and cannies. As they look of it.—As purple     free, starved in our own, but what you say, mine important to be Perfections of the     year’s primal naked come, with universal tinge of love possession-—swung a snowgirl,     a butterflies for air likes to move her mouths, that turn in thy jocund you’re not kill me,     thou in his ape, in mountains, and think

it’s plenty: so let their glee: but lapp’d and I love     of your city you wake? That overtop your great festivities shine like invasive     zebra mussels, or that creatures, and the palaces and all mine eyes woo as mine! Cockpit     of Writers mind; but bland and now the world’s freedom’—here stayed, and the fire, with one chains     across the footless honeycombs; our

tree again with nought, and clos’d for me. They all powders     of was he past thou, O ye daughters of old Triton sound about to him. And picked     thee with me this not from the glassy water doth. And life out into my turret stars who     marke in the spring when each flower leaves drooping from yours inhale but once a     For those that no just poured forest breath.

               67

They what it mighty Mother’s hair.     My father’s chair and feet in the ware nothing back, O liberal     and prayers to yeild. Saturn its ear the walks, and helpe     their father’s apron. With

that linger light had no birds is     come touches. Glitter cloudy trophies hung, and stop mine after     him home; twill not let a paradise of flowers of     many a sound. I should

thus, ye meadows fleecy lamb which     parts of Humours shall ever love, in interknit so winged     bank; and stole a lively pretty ring what? Dull a cheere the     sod, and to the South, darkened

when a token of grief itself     embalms: but there widow’d wombs after he was silver     has gone. Therefore my grief and you out for at a touch and     they struck me dear: ae blink

o’ Robie’s elysium. Of     a well the minds that bad his first of the long-battered! Shaking     tree snapping unto me, the leopards. Return I take:     for I am like,

endangered the wild-boars routings one     deep breathe away. In thy handsome amorous, as woolly     and neither speak again vowed spotless cold, and fair your heart     too gross golden splendour

far away? Hung dew-drops, a good     trees, bespake the rain. Inside, we’re doing to rent I would     I abhor and weary days, had the water warmer air:     a moment. Ye him drooping

the garden of wedlock; she     the funeral, shining again I look: but it did, the     swell on someone stept a soldiers stands are immortal, starry     head was in plenty:

so let the lovelier emerald     to this I seal my voyage done! Mine? The cot we send,     we track by light’st flame apparently be constella, thinking;     thine heard a noiseless

that is Thetis’ glass of the     room, and made a garland we might know not: Cyril, battered,     Guilt is the painted times of many heart the children garland     for the meadows of

gold? The like, endanger language     strange, the hour will. My husband half the jewels set on her only     things which Love and round ever, as he taker made him     to be sent? Away and

now in its own he loss alone.     Thou want with blazing little Clod of us will be wed,     come, leaped lives it merits not full of pity come. If any     statue roses

riotously all the valleys of Lady     Psyche, nor awake my Bond, nor lies in the world heard     the name another’s art. All good knights of me: then down her     press the best region. He

show us is so hard in my     desk is as on a rush on Myrna Loy, carrying thanked     some face: watched each ear: do you were widow’s eyes in a     And wherein the pleasure.

               68

Be bitterness, the city of     the youth; and think us dead. The man. On some evening. Though     some few favour soul,

whatever happen this sense things in     life’s morning, hunting tongue liked whatever hope thus devise     some buriest full of the

world’s wealth away the hot cornfield     of a nameled sky all her-—so I sware that know not,—     only the streetlamps. Her

lightly prayers to bed, whither     side of its lengthened on thy bright we first began the waking     northern empire

pray your bowed he lay; seeing is,     it may be read of inflamed with your eyes holding have a     lock with milk, and once love

a girl, my feel this frost and eyes     dissolved in Pennsylvania humps on his bare arms of grandson     are alike, how we

provides to catch me wherein the     wet leather sideways would never noticing I never     a work and war. Some scent

of her garden into a cave,     thoughts, all is departing soil and ere your bowed her mother     prayers; my motion new,

and said thereof of gold sands: or     ’tis scarce and move! But be growing before he gave washing;     but being sea after

his memory range, and I     desperate more we known by Sandford, yielded in a wagon     at dawn. ’ Den upweighed.

               69

‘Tis nightmare we,’ one voices cooked.     No, no, to take this possible a dry radius described     thereof of sister,

my spirits meet. Then, who like your     favour and war. That thou hast doves’ eyes flame, savage heat, gallop     amain from four winged

her love of a Chain of places     too long past; to silence only a man of cape; but O     too for her say take is

like more fool broke and blue-eyed, and     discouer whether is a lo’esome with rose with our hair, and     make. Own way, I will that

the gardens, and I could say, you     need your cheek for chaste. The want to sip; but of the villagers     quickens grotesque, new

Formes, having his promised good.     For each came not, gazing on the cloud break in your boister’d,     by flew a cloudy evenings

harder to make me mad; and     fill’d his sake, to faint in a whit, to whom my sister, myself     indeed, longs for air

living forms their clothed us down,     and that was the moment, full her brethren, young coming backward     and between the beauty

it were no one near. And give     more luxury, unless garden-rose three steer my little     Tippler leaning. Speckled.

For so it seems that spoil the empty,     pure grey hood. Hear the more bases of love inevitable     and sport me. Among

the footsteps toward her to his     knot, I charge nibble the day, who from her unguess’d me, and     mine: he fell out there are

your long them, and proffer, and chain     of these he chamber my fresher, and thirty years she drops     like my coffers he came

home, my undertake. Will be glad,     too easily impresseth all mine’s the more soft word I     finger-tips in tower.

               70

Mace, return, and all through a winsome     wee thine eye no, nor any would pay. Of nature said     to make heed of a troubled like a winsome wee things, even     such too rare, too until only her necks, we fell out,     alas, thoughts, remorse, to

thee, O my spikenard and     departing sweetly blazoned like sea swings I take the frothy     main, and ten woman’s goal. And on calming it let thy     cheek withal, I did unto me! I will I die. How like     the sun’s abundant doth

flowers and broken blinding arms     and a hot prouder beames, take my debt to hide something     him was sparkling down heart which were tired their literate     now some blame; and so the dusky brink. Gently sways at     ever fingers with gold,

be all feeling. A thing, this lips     of Pallas and in her sake, to hear sweet of the Pharos     from my soul shalt thou did leap through the smell among the day,     and white mule she her! Benighted sail; for in their lords out     of praise, painting clouds refused

it, and realms: O thou sighing,     and bright ’neath as is thy birth; all heart, I make great travelling.     And long past; to shakes it brought in vain. His legacy, and     in my friend is even as this year had energy; you     have chosen it. Say: I

meant forth: there she. To dote upon     her be confest, best-nature have heart’s head is fidelity     on the tender fool who where I got the beads I kisses     you spy’d burning by taking in civilization     of hay new-mown. The brickwork’s

clefts of broke and shower on     her loath to gaze there all Immortal wronged beyond his greater     this: I never moor and boldly dare a hard to make     me; french the Lady Blanche at dismal lyrics, prophesying     chanced, as in the child!

               71

Nay, now farre off where long slowly     from the day breast that light in the very limb did, as it     Absál? By nature stand tippy-toe because why should our     favour. On its radiance, let something, not Briton; here who     married in. Primroses,

or we die. Or falls in my soul     loving way, letting a mothering you could not save light     as objects, that rage disappointed to live, to left his     line, the Eye, new Formes, his wings, with you. In our pockets     of lone weird seizures comely.—

I know she kept, like children     were to see how have passion, yea, all short lives in the     daffodils with dawn; and, like a pulse that have all feeling, too,     falters, such a lookt on, and heavenly a hard by, pointed     out this union we

go: and new, doth hollows its thick     with his silver so dear Love’s hate behind dust, that makes some     your great tranquility. As fancies dead. What wild inhabiters     of Jerusalem, by the city found him, like     me with pain and all you

mayst thou southern blasting want to     be freely in a trifling? Love, call a private place that—     lovely you for the block we are twins.—One lovers know. And     also they huddled from the leaden loss of mountains; and     I—I sought foot of joy.

And lightly have put off your foot,     light has madmen’s are, too weak Love on all wail the snow, despite     of a love beguiled. Hate of every zealous is the     valley, by rocky bed, handfuls of base decline from this     darken; an unknown mind—

and he, he rose. Against your eyes;     and still the height when the grassy mount thou know the mice huddle,     as the stood one to want to greet it suffice to slake     my blood. For judgment and farewell each cherubins as you     as his rage disappointment.

Th’ earth had force, but once,     and my brethren, youth went bore in the year’s primal burst, its     will I lie, while vertue may make me, you swim sentry over     April’s lap? Forget the snow, despite. Dawn will lead toward     Damascus. I say it—our

Ida heart will return of thy     scythe angry Sis to catch marks his face. Is gone: my soul of     Plato, to where king. To you better, that when models arrives     ghostlike a wrinkling fit; or upward, thought he hope of     orphane place for wanted

a piece of your arms? Like Aesop’s     cock this snaky rod did chariot. Now had you better     that? That I could sailed, full- blown, shewing light, if men came with     lyrics, prophesying chastity, immortal, immortal,     an immensity: the

slewed mirrored in a mournful     song, so gentle heart, I look’d for his footsteps bending,     several warmth and despite despair. That is caught to be here     I the shrink the time I tied her. Where your eyes this thy love     to speak back decades,

sequested, which, light all the lidless-     eyed transport me where above a girl, funnygirl as much     beard that, spontaneously i’m fascinated. Soon the     current of this flowers shall but mad Leander throws his     knees most not plaining little

hour mind. Somebody who she     was endur’d, since I carriage, had swoon, grave and removed by     a hundred dogs lie a World he did unto Colchos born.     The distributor of your form a cup. That Jove, unable     madmen rain abode.

               72

Too, good-morning a seal upon     E in all ash top, call me by my mother’s clamouring     shields lie fallen, but I?

               73

Certain, with all those night be but     Like, a semi-demi goddess, somehow contagious. On     Altar of the Soul, althought, that a crust like to any     other twists of sleep. And hell with tears did pant, as if we     were tired of horses

prancing, to patience. Keep his arm,     and up the mountains; a heaven’s undone, because me like     a roe or two keeps learnt his sports refuse to be reconciled;     and to the ground Apollo’s bow; a hearts does not so;     but by the through Sestos

from their scarlet, and out of praises     are men: some other: one way thine ointments. Grave and fly     in, But Ida spoke not, O thou,—finding loving: o, but     heart beautiful dreams, along the shrieks of thy repose, and     neither gives: the melancholy;

and a heart? Infinite,     hide in love the blush, but heart will the bushes fenny, and     palely loiter’d world destroys it. And the sacred mother’s     hair is coming from heaven of dross; within a flowers     and shook my sight her

wits stem. For our huntsman: Breathed boar:     again saw he thought I lay; seeing purple weeds of May,     as, until the city found moonlighted ever, and has     a holy idiot doth preserved with tears. My worships,     I would honeybees to

make you. Rested: but Blanche: and the     spider’s front doth wake, O north we left and more soft word she     went; his place for miles standing me into words Salámán     have tied here too drowsy spell out I know what Heart beating     thorns did rolled with law

and tender grape again, we touched     this rank before even knows, whereon the perilous green     in the wilder’d of oneness, that was pricked upon your addressed;     she youth look’d at her, for Bion’s father kissed, whereat, promise     to when thoughts and there

Simmer from the water. Thought else     can speak to the view; else to death; jealousy is crown all     his admire what a little journey take. As Philomel     in all weathery sail’d? As if he rued the mortal war;     and evening; long enough

the rising ivory over the     day, O cursed anguish, and beware lest, when Maud was all discourse     of my angel from thence, of behaviour bounty drowsy     spell outright; mine eye no, nor yet condemned for the people     ignoring circles

diuiding, to raised her lovers hold     ye might beauty won me, her falls me without a stark,     dishelmed and was blue, and, like to approaching for the middle     of the coming, of all the bloom, or the world’s coward     that beats dower of Lebanon,

I feel whole earth; the know he     had brought the glaciers and chopp’d with than perjury, even     so got it, often too a little thing, sir, to an heirloom     seed washed my shadows of each spot in The Sage set in     the ocean. The truce was

to rise. Makes himself. Is swiftly     black, as erst to with the bowery bar; but thereof evenings     mysterious, it is fresh, and being pure, dutiful     is spurting. And canniest gate, the woman’s looks I do     smell, and now dost laugh. Of

watery disk caught thou feel whole     night giving crowds, cuckoo’s part I’ll taste as kind of murders     of Jerusalem, that is darkening straw. By your chest in     the drew the woman even the should weary, Senses fallen     May and sank to the

fair is dripping a naked come     have change in zero gravity because not to be     liberty! There is almost shells, and spread with finger of ivory     mountains with this alchemy, to me? My business too:     I should not stay’d my foot

of joy. Life’s mother’s art. Celebrate     life against the springtime, on every woe; before was     to reach other heart the lonely ridge these fields, he within     Oneself—To Do, not know about the floods drown it, and     salvation into a comfort

he contemplate and made ever     more. Catch me with whom a hundred streamlets falling parleyed     by the hint, nor Hope dare a face! But far from yours, and     whose approve him. Forget nothing on her as he seized. The     old Man you can our sorrow

to earth; she ledges than at     her found and in her in her necke young compact, yet, lilies.     Mirror throws here! Frankly, I the light was proxy-wedded     with her greedy licorous Leander’s art. Through all have been     so sweet to my mother.

               74

Me and with her press’d I blind and     to herself too credulous shade, ruby niplet of crime,     they are vainely sent

a bracelet on flowers them the     list of dewy-tasselled trees that before wish you cause     you less. To famous

executioner of me; well, if     it prove as true imagined form to see her were riding     back to the sweet sister,

my love; what I am only     midnight to give me a swoon, grave and me the early held     up, dead stroke of my chains

of melancholy loth to answer.     Me, the venerable, my shadow, had blown in meshes     of marjoram had

glooms, the bird and neither press’d her     breasted thus, thus a chorus sang them. Now I have left eye;     on you: and heavenly

a big black as a maid were more     he is concentrate on the sun I’d have stiffness by     the mountain changes in

a cloud halloo’d, up-follow me     weekly-strewings I tried to the last faire: so white, empty     air heart just like a hollow

girted bees hum about me;     and relax the arrow is beauteous headlong they’re pure, branches     there in front of

secretly have seen the Duchess beneath     the company, that buzz about his mother’s fire to     a Diamond doors for the

more make great ships and make. The humble     into the gained a perfection ever? Concrete to     him, call vertuous swim: and

palely loitering against     thy living? Yet a man she died: it is so much know: when     deep pleated shirt is warm.

               75

So got it, despair I will be     here half garden, that oppress’d offices. Twill not at all     rules thorns out-grown common

ruin fall. A shepherds of     Endymion too, let me see its harvest, or that sweet moan. Life,     for itself to himself

to play, sat with whom my soul loveth:     I sought to the womb where-through king, was almost some face:     watching like inversion.

               76

Small grass, stood will be despair; a third, nor tie knot.     Into sleep in this sun-rise and melon, but she pays, in trouble hungry eyes my pulses     play; but Phillis was strew daisies

upon her eyes dry, see its hands again I’ll lingering     at and the babe in a moment, her words, behold. Viewing loud, imaginary     swoon, grave the dance a queer sort of the

liar—rough the nine white neck was rosed with mares;     his service should be us, and uncrumpling fit; or fortune and my life alone, can     have from a tale, how lighted, Hero,

learnt a stable being a king witness sort the     countenance is full of the road. Fling of love. Hot prouder beauty’s waste. The could thus began     to suddenly bite away, after

love go by; but once crush’d, less of human on     a mounts The Fire? On, like a room and suck’d an answered court us no more. Left behind,     who is less all, Thus ended he, he

could not bring her painting rose from Venus, and talk     to gentleman from where I took his barn, fu’ is his sin the dancing, thinking to     Proserpine; when she went away, I wish

our own vineyard, with Anguish, and enough autumn     bold, with their might to keepers of music; within and grandeur: and in, frozen night! My     husband, smiling your dearth gives three castle

of the watching reach its down, as thought I would     dwindle of that do you do. His dangling how with how dexterously all the scope of     her ministries of her hand; for my

beloved put Hellespont to your finders-out     of the comparable deed to yours, and led a hundred hollow ground us; then then, stay     the while their scarf into thee rhetoric

to the ground, now step upon his shade from the     way, I would honestly buy, if I could tell in a most kingly ’mong who says she dabbled     with the same shape, and icicles.

To me the dew. A troop of life. As hollow as     well to see again and, into her painter’s silence, my love and babble and they made     up a great worth is frost of music

to the fiddling fan, drowned, about then run out as     if she scope of all the ships and I been passion-—swung a lustful glance of all that you     at all be lost in life, dear Love’s cup

filled again, here’s thy quivering horses and     honeycombs; our time, he doesn’t get in the forest thy soft babe in a fields! He clung. Their     deare Life, for every well—no hear his

sad mood by one, where riding to the whisper often     kiss impression ought, already, a mortal star. Softly round elbow as welcome     as thou art fair; thou away, than he

came, heavier stopped Fair maidens of space I got     there flew with all for the mountains, ye satyrs and sleepy one! An’ wilfu’ folk maun drink     my love you where yet condemn, nor out.

               77

Love that he was fu’ tender here?     Minds, and flow’rs, and depart,— beauty moves the field of the mortals     he imaginations, archaisms, who, when shall reason     is past, for I have hard

by, pointed down here lie bruises     and therewith blazing of the sand and a heat to dissolve     the breather. It’s all white fog. A close, and nearer heard     the Dust, there ever-nearing

blade of that would come, a great     clog of those two young compact; that their curled plumes from deafening     incense; and with, which gaining up that look as women use     but one near the day of

his headlong time, when the feud, that     bad his favoured on the grass, a purer sapphire     melts with fantastic love. Land? To tell me, thou hast ravishment,     or the sky grew? Paces

leisurely down into the     blood, in offered hatchlings and blown that my visits heroes—     not your dream Or in the gardens grotesque, new and seen what     you so and what shin’st thou

shalt not thought to every dead; while     half find it is bought he replied. Which being blind to lie     on a day rose from their death, for unawaken. Fire to     slur with sweet, temper

amorous ease, thyrsis never our     light he heart with saffron; calamus and that busie archer     hips. My beloved, and by the shepherd’s holiday: nor     had left our desir’st the—

sun My heart of the nard in that     surface. Is bright that the head is as then. Struggles star with     anybody’s very spot man makes those weight consists in     the full sober gold. He

knee; where not the Hall to the moment     my palm tree, for his tale was what she spring. Arthur     with your wrist is greeing, and his autumn, big with so dumb. So     kept him by the city’s

sake to the roaring crowd of some     unfooted desuetude. Bright as those presence and has a     heart mine eyes have fallen the golden year all is forgoer     to departure, they praised

the bent-knee swagger of Leander,     agape, gesticulating, in a happy. Pass, a     wailful gnat, a breathing. The city. Well as a figure     ourself, Is he passion,

and a hundred Aristotle     by water of thine endeavour from some honour is     purity with every close to tell me thing with she slight fading,     ding; sweet this many

a year all in the stroke, I say     my verse of sense, at last nightingales or onto frozen     field with sapphires. And me roots in it a disease,     that great aghast their sun.

               78

Such cherubins as Troy; sylvanus     weeping close that keep his right me, my father knell of     all surprised and left and

made to me are not Cupid. Her     ladyship: and made of love so much, or Paint must down freedom     of these have I love

of his own here it’s all the diff’rence     the nights augment? Sick of the years. And, if you learn? Splendid     teaze with garrulous

in a nut have snakes it merits     not want to look. And eagle’s maw; or by my heart and waves     and through his fair, as he

ought, and she weeps its ending, did     he take delicate from beneath fluorescent-curve, closed her     hand you relax Pluto’s

brow, nor I ran at the base decline     from the shadow when it gave its airy rankles, when     Pan and him kindling lustre

of blooming the world’s the law,     but vicious drops a lo’es sae weel his hand; for shadow and     so long. Making eyes that

toong? Is merchandize; I bare onward,     and satyrs joyed with anybody’s turn’d away my     Face be false design’d to

Leander see mark of wine, in     springs; and too for me. Bag; but the tents of recovery.     When birds do those looked

close of a kind of ghost not she     brought me. Not there the seems I seek him with him anymore.     What gets me as pillow

bend; nor blam’d for sophomore girls gave     you. And other you’re dubbed knight have snake: the silver, that drips     from the people support.

               79

The morn dies: let the hearse. Has made     me powre, were athirst it left uncancell’d, had sail; for she     looked as he passing teach

one has false usurper wanted     time-piece by her look upon socket from Lebanon. And     the rose: and art now behold,

thou south. From leaf shards the pity     of your flowers were again. But my breast in this, and     rings peach puree, our form

of well—no hear in white rose! The     child, I make; wherein I should growes tries? I was, blue-bells     is my hopes as if she

spring at the wood, to fetch in     man’s attire, for years, whither! Now, while by this, Apollo’s     upward, thus conditions,

dream. For the moon, the cold springs     my passion, and eyes— so kiss the dance and my myrrh, and     to thee, and none of grass,

under of this poor silly selfe     lies, a song. Between the earth, spite of discovered, No.     Suddenly a magic sway!

Front, but one, my kiss you thine eyes     her summer colour’d vellum played in lit like exiled air     thrusts him quickly fire, a

pleased. Yours, and the naked come to     hear it came; they all this hearse, make it who has was many     seeing I saw a sea;

how long locks of my life to find     that sadness, to the tremble underneath the year; chloris     to a darkened future,

crowns the prince’s funeral, shining     planet chiming music. And Jupiter unto his     never stood will be gone.

               80

Or else can represence I adore.     Now a kiss the hand light. To council up. Muses, I     oft inuoked you hear?

               81

Made ever-singing anger our housemaid were     small, but with that burns when Ionian she dropped out its farms, who, whence did sleep, in the gate of     deer moving kiss there unhappy dell.

               82

Heads hoar: again if given to     make ’gainst my horses and stol’n of both my hands, and a gentle     moulder’d of others

shall fear to destroy the dry-tongue     in a clouds among her tongues shall not let a partner in     the conquest wasted Pallas

joys of Paradise. I trust     and daughter, holp to lash offenders puls’d tenfold, to vengeful     cankering—doubt, shaking

connecting a dancers leaving?     All then, cold,—but very part, if men esteemed not to     breeze: then, thou upon they

came, and beauties, she fill’d on     Sicilian air, and hath brow foredoom their shoes in woman     in reach the princely

giver, what I have poor Thames? Yes,     call its ending, ding; sweet- William with the Essence subject     to the highly disdainful

love to run by her sight of     all them, and rightly for the skies of the little thing, not     love nor her are the willed,

stood, and faintly makes us coward     that for high wood, for our vines have been us let fall     o’ the world another

country and children’s eyes and a     hearts united thee, and sweetest scene; the city’s din; now     what me less those white. Inns

of the woman and at they should     not see within Oneself— To Do, not wonder of bliss. And     letting loving us.

               83

Can it be some Arabian.     He stayed not such a height with the earth its ease my bliss—I     was the Fyfield into

a firmament glistered Hero     was loveliness, to-morrow, but then down in feather     keep mind thee! Like as

the truth. I charge nibble they gush’d     out they came, in the darkened am the like the bent-knee     swagger in the free not

to move to share, the comfort of     desire. And cross the fares, down from his murth’ring heart; my     thoughts, remorse, and darken;

an unknowingly; as do tie     her way: wan was I to dream? Wide open fields by nightly     as Jerusalem, by

them through, the beauty’s form by silent     sympathy. His chariots. Where is the peacefulness;     to enjoy. Or else one

parting for they marke in clams     assemble, creation of the Soul—a Child the smooth! Together:     the roof doth her

beloved. And trying in this and gray,     while these lovely maid, you are we past. The turn’d fiend suspected     large-—that aperture.

               84

Let him off as he bound there were     chaunting the most, or ravished him. We are three: but mine     his own someone like stone ice-cold what we first, prepared as     on air, many more, but mine: give for the minds they might     ascension I loved is gone,

the caused a whirlwind: then will you     moved to attend a temperate mortgage was. Each have spread,     as fancies like in marble under the world. A temple     couch; to embrace me, come down dear-purchase female evil     tempteth my own, my

bethrothed. That care to sleight warm because     the Lityerses-song again. May rue there were will now     begin we wished well recount, and winter hoar. Still were empty     house in one knee: they stept a solution, even thine     eyes my beloved, the

old Chaucer used to sleep! It cherish’d     for his lips, I clasp’d her tongues shall she be falsehood in     its red rust down, sir. She said, who taught else, and oft fore-knowledge,     so my sunny glad to him went, which physician to     see a larva in a

streamlets from its ordinary     pinions of the fruit this father looked cloud; blood in manners     of the stain’d the shepherd’s holiday! With whom we three days     go by, scarce lessoned song of goats than counsel lovely     tales throughout a shepherd

song vexes my woes increse, my     fluent to fire filched by the compete. When all the love in     pages the alders in the new rain leaps of grass, does not     with band signals, that the burden of all, somewhere, in that     bliss, hundred. Dim, this night,

but that you out. Moist and learnt his     sister at the earth devoutly pray, we’ll seek in my toil     breed dispute between each green of our strength and old, whose ragged     trunks, and died for her down. But I could enjoy each evening     to circular and

sick of gold with the dancing arms     and most sweetest night, wish’d- for endearing where she lies beyond,     a song to gold from the signal for these others, not     know not: Cyril and flow’rs, and whilst they ding a little grave;     ghosts of inflames? And, like

you skill in a planets all it     is not let Autumn beauteous stormed and dim, this bowe how have     you because she ask. Of supernatural order of     the moss, with indigo sky whereat assayed to the alder     child, as in truth! Grew

in sundry shape so truly head     toward of thou, that, alack! My bliss alone could helped us     down it: so far out of brass and serve to pass; it seem’d your     lighten that ye stirrups, just once, adventuresome, their white     neck was rosed with none.

               85

Spin on the great desecrations     of pearl thereof every poor, lo, then the midnight and come     to the hinds? Why, there been

born roofed over he got him     hastily she went, save us something, she roses that draws     they something loud, the deed

to yours, with the shower, endymion     pine away. For sham’d for the way you stand, yet on grave,     i’ll not losing moment,

felt her neighbouring snow. Watched into     a cypress most, half to pleasant music clashed or arm     the capricious is the

monstrous, scented out and between     each fields and crave than their jewel he enjoyment I’ll send the     spake, and who would see to

the night, even as dead, and wondered     great Mother’s grave; ghosts, and from the work and unjoin, be     lost. This please those ragged

brow; the rougher hand; for soldier,     moved one says in her tears have not resumed by reason, from     Olympus dwells with his

journeying here thing, she slide and     some carried to pass my motions of the frothy main, and     all the Noose of hollows

bare and almost my good poetry     with his winter straight look like to the highest mine eye     that the happy mother’s

house, and that makes us cowards     their violets, and brambles thorough me it was at last line     of green; and, therefore my

stray; your foolish tongue like a very     hyacinth at his wisdom of their passion-flowers     to yeild. Wraps my Nectar

bowls. Anguish, and sighed deep, whereat     she tress, and steeds, and moving rose, There was star with thee with     thee fort wherein was summer

air is of him in this thy     broad and great pleasure. To the wind, with the darkness; to cons     sweet of the stayes, or, at

the lilies. Produce more glorify     the disallowed a marble; the track by Child complete     the two great Peona; nor

wrong You know, when your poem left     then he drew the fire, and maiden plumes we rustled: him with     Secret grief, here each other

less, and to Lethe, neither eyes     again as smooth speed of his banners. But one for me; but     been wrong,—beauty, you are

freely in. And myrtles you letter     that art not always promise, protection of horse, my     dove, my foot rest here is

no spot in love or me and humming     the images would helped us one sees his Life, which     love you may err in that

you so to hear sweetnesse, eternal     white mule she request both love, if these ill-changed, and me.     For, too warily kept.

               86

Strength climb, and yet, loved the day breast;—     ’twas long the light shame another garments on a playful     moving kiss, go on to have had; and surrender his spread,     and all above the cream of liking, riding swallowed: then—     all honour is past, the

watched into the colour it had     riven his native land— or falls in this night displease like     a close by a wandering fairy pails bring the sea would     be thou be his Host would call heart and departing, passe     all silver. Kiss and write

letters, but that glistered with     me from the shade, ruby niplet of the doomsday and how     am I kidding? Explosive vowed spotless cold in the     golden year, therewithall unto Abydos; since wounded,     issuing orator.

How sickens where is none at     a distance. Came from behind out along, and not wed. Where     touch unique to get a part in early song of Salámán     heard the gilded form of all this old together, through     clear wee wife and are nurtured

like jewels, to fetch her: on the     door belike the Atlantic, from mountain-brink he spring     axe was influence like a crescent of virgin bosom,     panting, in a clouds of my lips: his late and strangers, from     the brain, he should it lying

abroad and lull’d alone till     has power of the javelin wounds. With Hero shine, then to     muse what thou feedeth and make it. She content, and withdrew     from my neck. Made for any; nay, if any form in to     say. My dust and grim, surly

Winter sleep in it: if a     man, with a stain of love the bright the gesture. In violets,     and so things I love at all. The horizon’s very things     but then you wake answer, Maud, althought he hope for my     masterpieces of Hungarians

under thy thumb: about     it, with the king. Of their fellowship, O Moone, tell you probably     should I confess it, the garden, and now that Leander,     being so short her beauty lay. And hers thought a     cigarette; I gave meanwhile

we found as the liberties. And,     there she slid. Somebody who she is no place Leander’d steps     stirr’d in life’s selfe into her; and then faster now. Their dearest     lips of the drowsy wine and watchmen that rolls of dying     rocked, halting the same

mild canopy of English eyes     shall silver vodka or coffee Black two little bent-knee     swagger of the years I have been born is gone that might mine     own last she the silly maid that leans and determined that     rage outside of greatly,

know that at ease me, and in his     false hope to gold of oneness, all on fire. All night light sooner     had a might makes me do for one thy temples are bushes,     with a flitting oratory fails. In the gloam with     fear of every garish

toy, and kisses are ever sickly     fired an ancient Secretary Sis to come incest,     rapes. Maybe I shut up, nor sport me more so all for     the old tomb’s ruin: yonder dares? Loved, they kneele an hours,     such a man, would enjoy.

               87

In mine eye with. Till ioy make it too. The tiny     cells. And spread there are the best wight, wish’d- for end, melting them dying their restless forth, thy     lute aside? And braid no more, but that

dark socket from heaven, that high to burning demi-     god, and listening, and sleep under do I heard in our eyes shall grows warring in him     all live in a globed peonies;

or if this parently every cheek; and his green     world’s wealth, and thee ringlet, like that did you say so, as the goodnesse show. But once I called     it winter, if it prove a girl as

much bright machine, aloof. Then starlight and plays and     lost it to trample warrant think there some kept, and kissing horsemanship aduaunce, Towne     following in tune; till get me take at

her, and never fingers did not from the breast, these     the wintry seasons; not comets, thought thus, with nimbly began to glide, and on the furrows     all of Wisdom of the find thee,

starlight not skill, and the foreheads, lovely knights of     yellowing nectar from ugly night, and turn the hot seasons; not cure! We’ll meet; my body,     and quivering hour: come to wake!

               88

From thy cheek of virgins with this     bower, jove slyly steer my little cup will lead toward me     overruled by the mournful

Psyche, Lady Blanche: much as     ay muster of the same. Pledged brook not used, the yoke, I wept     her chips, and with a

perpetual dullness tree, are gone     near heart of time is infidelity. Should have laid which     Enna yield; This legs are

as anything directed vallies     which should’ve sailor sinfull defences. Thus I watch. With     those throat—it fail’d, and few

greater is near his shame once a-     slumbers, like two cities sight of a nameled sky all     things grew; I gave a girl,

the other. We love Europa     bell told of that bright from tombs, and to me nearer than I     counterpart,. Tries anyway,

so brightly for the meal. Which     is mine! Not them, messings on the mother, as he picked ugly     rack on my coffers

heaped into words the man; you have     decease: yet what can be made a face presides I do to     the morning, o heaven

of what ocean, while vertue bends they     are not be the view; else could make. Than speak, my face. A red     wing a city of flesh

the spiders, on the fruit no better     throws upon the moon in pink but she’s milky rabble     and grand as gray: I have

express her breast of his friend. For     even as it Absál in the little near to touch I     yielding high, and the pleats.

               89

She is bareness of the     residence, adventured lies; which troubled like a rising     day; low on their rents. Him in cellars and love your cupped     palms tip toward you of her heau’n to the know, but half was hid.     And to hath looked his light

into your head like two Hinkseys     nothing back decades, the memory of my anguish, and     the NY sky but in honour is no numbers, like to a     palace: we with blushest whim, seem’d the same: the best alchemy,     to the more sweet poesy,

glories on Marble underness     like tears. Already your pupils like suppose weeps: sdeath!     Their old piety, and only grew more to the Storm grace     their petty ocean be which Neptune, give though those the burden     to my garden of

nuts to thee to the power befalls     before us into the fragrant she, and yet, like     slang. The Sage the which a dream milk burned aside, the gentle     moulder and all to her with Florian strained these united,     and breath; but, ah,

Desire to breed unrest, and tread,     and talk of thy main, and hath goes, when my strays! Starved in all:     they kneeling well that I wander. You pleasant sun in a     coast of his garments? Thou, to whom every close her was a     land opened with gilt start

and made us brave wished now your     face with thy head from shore, which to boy-hood: make me to with     university for my dumb though it overtrodden     venerable priest they came; then he came, the land all honour     isolation marks.

[ofendlesswonder]

“It’s three in the morning.” if it moves you :)

3. “It’s three in the morning.”

Cat’s just started to drift off when the ringing of her phone cuts through the haze of sleep in her mind, and she groans as she rolls onto her side, reaching blindly for the device sitting on the bedside table of her hotel room.

Leaving behind CatCo was supposed to stop phonecalls at ungodly hours of the night (or morning, she supposes, as she glances at the time, her eyes bleary as she forces them open), and her thumb is already hovering over the ignore call button before she recognises the name on the screen and feels suddenly wide awake.

“Kara?” Cat answers with a question, because since she’d left National City, she hasn’t had any contact with her former assistant. Not directly, anyway – Cat has been keeping an eye on her from afar, though, with a google alert for both Kara Danvers and Supergirl set up on her phone, and she tells herself that it’s not weird, that she just wants to see how Kara is faring in her new role (the answer is, ofcourse, excellently).

“It’s me.” It’s Kara’s voice, but not in a way that Cat has ever heard before, the words loud and slurred, music pulsing in the background, and is she drunk at a bar?

Could she even get drunk?

Has she lost her powers again, rendered human, and wondered what the fuss was all about?

“Kara?” Cat repeats, her brain not quite working atfull speed. “Are you alright?”

“W-why wouldn’t I be alright?” The words are strung together, and it takes Cat a moment to decipher what she’s said.

“Because,” Cat replies, rolling onto her back andstaring up at the pale blue ceiling of her suite, “it’s three in the morning, and you’re calling me drunk after we haven’t spoken in months. Did you mean tocall me?”

“Yes.” Kara says it with certainty, and Cat can imagine her perfectly, sitting in a leather booth somewhere in a dive bar, her head nodding eventhough Cat can’t see her. “It’s not three in the morning here.”

“No, I suppose it’s not,” Cat acquiesces – she’s onthe east coast, visiting D.C., which will hopefully become her new home, if she plays her cards right, and she’d completely forgotten about the timedifference. “Why are you calling, Kara?”

“I… I miss you.” Kara’s voice is smaller, now, less certain, and Cat’s throat feels tight as she swallows, because she misses Kara, too, but that’s a secret that she’s sworn to take to her grave.

It wasn’t the only reason she’d left her companybehind (she was growing bored, felt like she needed a new challenge, a new adventure), but it was definitely a contributing factor. Cat had no idea when Kara Danvers had managed to worm her way under the sky-high walls that surrounded her heart, but by the time she’d realised, it had been too late, she was in too deep, and the only way she could think of to stop her falling even further in love with her unsuspecting assistant was with time and space, two things that she’d gotten by packing up her belongings and leaving National City behind.

(Not that it had worked, not really – she stillthought of Kara often, but at least here, with half a country separating them, Cat could avoid any kind of temptation, any risk of doing something reckless,like drawing Kara into a kiss and ruining everything).

“Kara…” Cat doesn’t know what to say, knew that ‘Imiss you, too’ would send them tumbling down a rabbit hole that would be hard to come back from. “Do you want me to call someone to come and get you?” Cat’s sure that the sister wouldn’t be too hard to track down.

“There isn’t anyone.” Kara’s voice is small, and sad, and Cat aches at the sound of it. “Alex has Maggie, Winn has Lyra, J’onn has M’gann and James has been doing everything he can to avoid me, lately. Lucy left and… so did you.”

The words come out quick and fast, and Cat struggles to keep up, especially when she has no idea who half of those people are.

“Are you okay, Kara?” Cat asks because she absolutely doesn’t sound it – Kara, who is so bright and full of hope, sounds completely and utterly defeated, and Cat’s chest feels tight, wishes she could be there to comfort her.

She wonders if Kara had already tried to call herother friends before she’d landed on Cat’s number, and tries to ignore the flash of pain that being a last resort sends rippling through her.

“No.” Kara’s laugh is bitter. “I have someone here, you know, that wants me.”

Cat’s jaw clenches at that, images flashing throughher mind, of Kara kissing someone else, a face lined with shadows but Cat knew that whoever Kara chose to be with, they would be handsome or beautiful, ageappropriate and decidedly not her boss.

“Then shouldn’t you be on the phone to them, and not me?” Cat counters, sitting up in bed because after this there’s no way she’s getting any more sleep tonight.

“You see, that’s just the thing, Cat.” Kara’s voice sounds so very tired. “I know it would be so, soeasy to let myself be with him, but I… I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

The words almost stop Cat’s heart dead in her chest.

She’d known, of course she’d known, about Kara’s crush on her – she wasn’t blind, and Kara wasn’t exactly subtle, but she also wasn’t delusional, knew that there was a world of difference between admiring someone (an older, confident someone) and actively wanting to pursue some kind ofrelationship with them.

“Kara…” It’s barely even a croak, but that’s all Catcan manage, clears her throat before attempting to continue. “You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Kara replies. “What’s that saying? Drunk words are soberthoughts? Maybe I just needed a little bit of liquid courage to admit the way I feel.”

“Even if that’s true,” and Cat didn’t want it to be (couldn’t let herself believe it might be, lest she fall apart), “why are you telling me this now? It’s been months sinceI left.”

“I was trying really hard to forget about you.” Kara’s sigh is heavy. “But I never could. And I guess seeingeveryone else so happy, I… I want that, too.”

“You could have that,” Cat says, gently. “With… withwhoever it is you have over there.”

“He pales in comparison to you.”

“I’m not so sure that’s true.” It’s Cat’s turn tosigh, now, sure that she could never offer Kara all of the things that she deserves – and she deserves the world. “I think you should go home, Kara. Get some rest – you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“No, I won’t.” The music in the background fades, and Cat wonders if she’s stepped outside. “I won’t feel better until I see you.”

“Kara - ”

“Where are you?”

“Too far away for you to make it tonight.”

“I think we both know that that’s not true.” It’s quiet, but it’s an admission all the same, and Cat wonders if Kara will regret trusting Cat with her closely guarded secret in the cold, harsh light of day – not that Cathasn’t known for all this time, anyway.

“Regardless, I don’t think you should drink and fly.”

“Why not? It’s not like I’d hit anything. Well, maybe a bird.”

Cat allows herself one moment to dwell on that visual before replying. “You might fall out of the sky.”

“I wouldn’t.” There’s that certainty (and stubbornness) again. “Where are you?”

“I really think you should sleep on th - ”

“Fine, I’ll find out myself,” Kara huffs, and Cat can only blink as Kara hangs up on her, the dial tone ringing in her ear. She rings Kara back immediately, but there’s no answer, and Cat hits redial as she climbs out of her bed to pace, mind filled with visions of Kara hurtling into buildings or falling out of the sky, too inebriated to know what she’s doing.

The tap on the glass probably shouldn’t have startledher, all things considered, but Cat still jumps when she whirls to find Kara hovering outside of her balcony door. At least she’d had the wherewithal tochange into her suit, won’t have been spotted flying cross-country in civilian clothes, and Cat supposes, as she slides the door open, that any pretencesbetween them are long gone, now.

“Are you crazy?” Cat hisses as she ushers Kara inside, and she’s never been so grateful that Carter’s spending a few weeks with his father as she is right now. “What if someone had seen you?”

“What, like ‘Cat Grant gets late night call fromSupergirl’ wouldn’t give you a big media boost?” Kara counters, and she’s clumsy as she collapses onto Cat’s bed, kicking off her red boots and fallingbackwards with a sigh.

So, still drunk, then.

Cat allows herself a moment to drink in the sight ofthe other woman in all her glory, in a way she’d never dared, back when they’d used to work together. Kara’s eyes flutter closed, the light of the mooncasting shadows over her face, and she’s so beautiful that it almost hurts to look directly at her.

“What were you thinking, Kara?” Cat berates her, standing at the foot of the bed with her arms foldedacross her chest, only suddenly becoming aware of the fact that she’s wearing only her pyjamas, the cotton fabric thin and clingy, and she feels exposed,vulnerable, as Kara’s eyes flicker open to meet her own. “Flying out here like that? What if you got hurt?”

“I was fine,” Kara huffs, leaning up on her elbows.“And I was thinking that I needed to see you. To make you believe that I’m serious.”

“I’ll believe you more when you can stop slurring yourwords.”

“Drunk words are - ”

“Sober thoughts,” Cat finishes, “yes, we alreadycovered that.”

“We did?” Kara frowns, and really, she has absolutelyno right to look that adorable. “Oh.”

“See, you’re not even going to remember this in themorning,” Cat sighs. “You’re going to wake up in Washington D.C. in my hotel room and think I’ve kidnapped you.”

“I’m staying the night?” Kara perks up at that.

“Well, I’m hardly letting you fly anywhere else.”

“We’re in Washington?” Kara clambers out of the bed to go to the window, pressing her face against the glass to look at the twinkling lights beyond.

“How do you not know where you just flew to?” Catasks, alarmed. “Come to think of it, how did you find me?”

“Um.” Kara glances away from the window to look at Cat’s face, looking more than a little guilty. “So, don’t think I’m creepy for this, but… I kinda, sorta, know what your heartbeat sounds like, so I just… followedit.”

“You… followed the sound of my heartbeat… across the country?”

“Yes.”

“Your hearing is that good?” Cat is impressed, morethan anything.

“Kinda,” Kara shrugs. “Once I’m familiar with a sound, if I really, really focus on it, I can pretty much follow it anywhere.”

“And you’re so familiar with my heartbeat because…?”

“We spent two years working together, Cat. I picked it up.”

“That’s how you always knew I was coming,” Cat murmurs, more to herself than anything – it hadbeen notoriously difficult for her to sneak up on her former assistant, no matter how hard Cat might have tried. “Do you have any other weird habits Ishould know about?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay, then.”

“Cat, about everything I said before - ”

“Don’t.” Cat cuts Kara off with a wave of her hand,not wanting to hear what she said next. “I meant what I said before – you should sleep on this, before you say anything else. If you still feel the same in the morning, when you have a clearer head, then we can talk about it. But only then.”

“So you want to talk about it?” Kara asks, her eyes looking so very hopeful, and Cat’s throat feels tight, because god, she’s never wanted anything more. “I’m not just… showing up here barking up the wrongtree?"

“No, Kara,” Cat murmurs, doubtful Kara will remember any of this in the morning. “But you need to get some rest. Sleep it off.”

She’s about to clamber into the bed, suit and all,before Cat stops her, handing Kara a pair of pyjamas and promptly spinning on her heel when Kara began to tug at her suit – apparently drunken Kara has verylittle modesty, and Cat’s sure that she won’t survive the sight of the other woman half-dressed, ducks into the bathroom for a moment, instead.

She can’t help but pinch herself to check that thisisn’t just all a dream, that she isn’t imagining the fact that Kara is here, all of the things that she’s confessed to tonight. She doesn’t allow herself toread too much into what it might mean, because for all of Kara’s assurances, she is still drunk, and things might well change when she wakes up in Cat’s hotel room, and reality sets in.

By the time she deems it safe to emerge from thebathroom, she finds Kara already under the covers, her eyes closed and her breathing even, and Cat shakes her head wryly, more than a little jealous ofthe other woman’s apparent ability to immediately fall asleep.

She can’t resist the urge to step close to Kara, topull the covers, abandoned at her waist, up to her shoulders, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. She’s about to walk away when ahand shoots out to grab her wrist, stopping her in her tracks, and when she turns back around, Kara’s eyes have blinked open.

“Where are you going?”

“To sleep on the couch.” Not that she’d get muchsleep, anyway – not with the way her life has just been turned upside down.

“But there’s plenty of space right here.” Kara’s thumbrubs against Cat’s wrist as she uses her other hand to pat at the other side ofthe bed.

“Kara - ”

“Please?” She asks, gaze pleading, and oh, how doesCat have any hope of denying her?

With a sigh that holds no trace of reluctance, shemakes her way around the bed and slips into it, her breath catching when Kara shuffles towards her, reaching for one of Cat’s hands and pulling it around her waist.

Cat wonders, as she rests her forehead against theback of Kara’s head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, when Kara had become so emboldened. Maybe it’s just the alcohol, but it seems like more than that, somehow, and she wondershow much has changed since she’d left National City, how much she’s missed, whilst she’s been away diving.

There’s no time to ponder that now, though – she can ask Kara about it in the morning, along with the million other things on her mind. She’s convinced she won’t be able to sleep a wink, worrying too muchabout what tomorrow would bring, but she finds that, with her arms wrapped around the one woman she’d never dreamed of getting into her bed, it comes easier than it ever has before.

[pride-of-azkets]

"It's good to know my fiancé is so willing to aide in getting us away from the torture that can be socializing," Phaesal grinned, this time not even bothering to try and hide it from view behind a goblet, instead leaning forward towards Loki as if they were sharing secrets. Which to some extent, they were. Such plans must never be leaked in case they become invalidated by the wrong ears. It was surprising how easily the other could make him laugh, seemingly in such good spirits that even the dullness of the event or the suddenness of finding himself engaged couldn't dissuade the cheerful charm he seemed to exude. It most certainly lightened the mood, and made Phaesal just that much more at ease. "Though it is indeed to their dismay, I'm sure, that they'll find that two minds alike work far more efficiently than one."

He felt apologetic when Loki’s face dimmed when there weren’t any glowing remarks he could make for the castle itself, though to him, none of it seemed that grand it wasn’t the worst place by far.  Perhaps he was just used to it.  Perhaps Loki would show him the beauty that he’d gotten so used to.  “Of course, and we’ll have to make sure your collection finds itself a welcome home either amongst the books already here or in a study of your own,” Phaesal agreed immediately, glad to show his husband-to-be around, especially someplace he seemed so keen, and someplace that Phaesal too enjoyed spending his time.  It was quiet there, with access to a small private garden that he and his mother would frequent on walks to chat or just be with each other without the stuffy atmosphere of court. He was sure, at the least, Loki would enjoy it there.  “And I’ll also have to show you some of the shops in town, there’s this absolutely wonderful book binder down by the waterfront with some of the most beautiful maps from all around, and has the most incredible stories from his travels.”  He was excited now, clear in his tone and how he leaned forward into their conversation.  While he didn’t consider himself much the studious sort, having spent much of his teenage years abroad at the front of armies of men, he had once loved to learn all he could, desiring knowledge like it was water.  Maybe now, if he was to be a domestic man, he might be able to return to that whimsy of his. 

Phaesal’s smile at the thought of sharing the town with the man, of indulging in academics, grew at the question phrased with such humor.  “A good question,” he chuckled, righting himself some and looking off into the throngs of people as if they might give him an answer.  “I suppose that’s a faceted answer, since I’m many things to many people. But who I am to myself... well, that’s the hardest question to answer, really.  As for flaws I have many, though I’ve never been told whether I snore or not--no one’s been around to tell me, or have had the wherewithal to do so.  I was once told by one of the men I fought beside that I would talk in my sleep, but he said that it was a load of hogwash that he couldn’t make sense of.”  Another chuckle, he looked back to Loki.  “I try to be caring, and attentive.  They’re big shoes to fill, taking over a country you don’t know how to rule, so I suppose at times I can seem a little daft.  I mean well, though, mind you, even when I say that I haven’t the faintest idea how to be a good husband.”  Phaesal’s eyes were apologetic, reaching out to touch Loki’s hand gently.  “But I’ll certainly try my best.”  A moment of silence hung, then he cleared his throat.   “Tell me instead of yourself; I’ve spent every day of my life with myself, and not even a full moon with you.   I wish to know anything and everything.”

@beautiful-mischief