[A nice dream. One with her in it… ? Helplessly, her lips change the shape of her face with a soft, affectionate (slightly anxious) smile, and though she tries to hide it… How can she, when his fingers will feel her cheek shape change beneath his? So foolish…]
I… I had a dream, too.
[One when she was awake, and not asleep.]
About Almyra.
[A place she had never been. One she kept telling herself (and Khalid) that she would surely never see.]
[He looks surprised, happy, even. That's certainly something to wake him up instead of drifting back off to sleep, and he shifts to sit up a little, just enough to prop himself up on an elbow.]
Oh? And what was Almyra like, in this dream of yours?
[There's a slight teasing glint in his eye, but his reply is still gentle. It's rare for Hayame to admit she might imagine some place she's never seen, instead of dismissing it as an idle fantasy, a waste of time not to be entertained.]
[Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it, because now that she sees the light in his eyes she doesn’t want it to disappear. Her fingers flex and settle heavy over his chest, the arrowhead necklace distinctive against her palm.]
… It was beautiful.
[Like he’s described it. In poetry, in words, in snippets of sunbeam beads and stories. Full of sand and heat but with resilient people, good food…]
There were pomegranates there.
[Not the seedlings she had carefully started growing in the garden that a certain war god occasionally put some plant magic into, but real…]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
leicesters) wrote2022-12-06 08:26 pm
no subject
I… I had a dream, too.
[One when she was awake, and not asleep.]
About Almyra.
[A place she had never been. One she kept telling herself (and Khalid) that she would surely never see.]
no subject
Oh? And what was Almyra like, in this dream of yours?
[There's a slight teasing glint in his eye, but his reply is still gentle. It's rare for Hayame to admit she might imagine some place she's never seen, instead of dismissing it as an idle fantasy, a waste of time not to be entertained.]
no subject
… It was beautiful.
[Like he’s described it. In poetry, in words, in snippets of sunbeam beads and stories. Full of sand and heat but with resilient people, good food…]
There were pomegranates there.
[Not the seedlings she had carefully started growing in the garden that a certain war god occasionally put some plant magic into, but real…]
And you were happy.