Iris scratches Abaddon idly behind his ear when he stops in to greet her, but she doesn't take her eyes off Cain. He doesn't acquire new scars, these days: his TARDIS would see to that even if his lifestyle hadn't quieted down, but the old ones remain: every familiar line and pucker and place where his tan turns patchy, every story she likes to tell and retell with her fingers or her lips or her mind.
In the water, she rests against him, folding her body into his like a beloved climbing tree.
"I keep falling in love. Not off me own bat, mostly - we 'ad a flood with bloody love potion fairies, like Midsummer Night's Dream."
Her face is pressed into the hollow of his collarbone, and she lets her emotions float away like skin oils on water: all the embarrassment and awkwardness and real pain that came out of that flood, washing impotently against the real, solid bulwark of a love that grew as naturally as a tree.
"It weren't all bad, I 'ave to admit. And the breach we 'ad just before I come, that was brilliant. We all got to be superpowered teenagers. You've got Star Wars in your world, 'aven't you?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-09-11 09:38 am (UTC)In the water, she rests against him, folding her body into his like a beloved climbing tree.
"I keep falling in love. Not off me own bat, mostly - we 'ad a flood with bloody love potion fairies, like Midsummer Night's Dream."
Her face is pressed into the hollow of his collarbone, and she lets her emotions float away like skin oils on water: all the embarrassment and awkwardness and real pain that came out of that flood, washing impotently against the real, solid bulwark of a love that grew as naturally as a tree.
"It weren't all bad, I 'ave to admit. And the breach we 'ad just before I come, that was brilliant. We all got to be superpowered teenagers. You've got Star Wars in your world, 'aven't you?"