destiny

She was divine.

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A woman born from the first kiss of spring, gifted to him with all the gentle wrappings of a bouquet. She was tender, blooming beneath his every breath and he was sure, should he allow himself, she tasted just as sweet. She was tantalizing, captivating in a way that made his mouth water and his mind grow hazy.

She was spring. A field of tulips opening to his eye, the soft scent of florals that wove throughout his senses, and the warm yet fresh air he'd breathe. He did not know her name, did not know of the sounds he could pull, nor of the way her voice might make him shudder. He knew nothing but that he wished for her to speak, to lay her gaze upon him.

Knew nothing but the sight of her. The smell of her.

She had not noticed him. A dream within a dream. How pretty she must be when the tide turned and her fingers and ears emerged. How breathtaking she would be beneath his thumb, lips parted—eyes wanting. She need only look to him.

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@Tinka

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