[ It has been a decade since his world has been consumed by night, but for a moment as he gazes upon her gentle features, he imagines that her smile is what the dawn will be when all comes to an end: resplendent and beautiful, lovely, warming all hearts with peace and hope. There is no doubt in his mind he is not entirely deserving to bask within such rays, for all that he has done...
But he is grateful, nonetheless, and so very, very humbled, that despite all, she appears to accept him-- and, in fact, appears delighted. That he can be the reason for her smile is nearly overwhelming, but somehow, he finds himself moved enough that his hand lifts from his side to cup beneath her palm, fingers curling against hers. The contact solidifies that this is not part of a dream, but reality.
To court someone had been a relic within the modern age, but he recalls its practice, and even how the practice had changed throughout the centuries. There is something nostalgic about the term, if only because there is comfort in a bygone tradition. Perhaps they will be regarded as relics themselves. Let them be, he thinks.
Somnus takes one step forward, close enough that he may better see the finer features of her face without obscuring the wash of stars-- lights reflected from the banquet hall nearby-- in her eyes. Gone is the hint of embarrassment from before. Now, his gaze holds a quiet purpose, respectful as if is promising her more than what she asks. He brings her hand upward, curling his touch, and then closing his eyes, he places his lips on the joints of her slender fingers. The kiss is delicate and chaste, and he lingers only for a moment before his eyes open to fall upon her once more. How lovely she is, in this moment.
His heart thunders within his chest, loud and powerful, but his voice is a low lull, carrying something just short of reverence for this pledge-- a task that he intends to fulfill to the utmost of his ability. ]
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But he is grateful, nonetheless, and so very, very humbled, that despite all, she appears to accept him-- and, in fact, appears delighted. That he can be the reason for her smile is nearly overwhelming, but somehow, he finds himself moved enough that his hand lifts from his side to cup beneath her palm, fingers curling against hers. The contact solidifies that this is not part of a dream, but reality.
To court someone had been a relic within the modern age, but he recalls its practice, and even how the practice had changed throughout the centuries. There is something nostalgic about the term, if only because there is comfort in a bygone tradition. Perhaps they will be regarded as relics themselves. Let them be, he thinks.
Somnus takes one step forward, close enough that he may better see the finer features of her face without obscuring the wash of stars-- lights reflected from the banquet hall nearby-- in her eyes. Gone is the hint of embarrassment from before. Now, his gaze holds a quiet purpose, respectful as if is promising her more than what she asks. He brings her hand upward, curling his touch, and then closing his eyes, he places his lips on the joints of her slender fingers. The kiss is delicate and chaste, and he lingers only for a moment before his eyes open to fall upon her once more. How lovely she is, in this moment.
His heart thunders within his chest, loud and powerful, but his voice is a low lull, carrying something just short of reverence for this pledge-- a task that he intends to fulfill to the utmost of his ability. ]
It would be an honor to court you.