Madi is struck then, by the sense that she won't see John's face again for an agonizingly long time. It hollows her out inside, leaving just her heart and a coil of dread and longing that tightens around it. She puts one hand to his cheek and kisses him.For that kiss, there is no rush, no time being wasted, no urgency, just heartbeats and breath and gentleness and something like love.
"Then hurry back to me." Yes, she'll miss him, too.
When they had narrowly managed their retreat from Nascere, when this plan had been discussed, John had realized exactly what he was going to be giving up. The sea had returned him. Flint had delivered him from red coats and given him back to Madi. If their attack had gone differently, then the whole of this war could have been fought together.
But their defeat changes everything. It changes how they can proceed, if they want to prevail in their goals. The soft clutch of her hand and the sweetness of her mouth, John will have to give that up for the present. His fingers tighten on her hip, and he exhales hard as the kiss breaks.
"I will," John promises. Has he ever promised such a thing before and meant it? "Just promise me that you..."
What? What promise can he extract? Madi will do what she must. John knows that. He trails off, eyes closing as he rests his forehead against hers. Many things live, unspoken, in that unfinished sentence.
She too closes her eyes, the world around them quieting until there is naught but the sound of their shared breath and the beating of their hearts.
No, she cannot promise that which she cannot keep, and yes, she will do what must be done. Of that there is no question, no doubt. So what can she offer to soothe his mind? What promise is there she can uphold, when so much is unknown, intangible, fleeting?
Only to keep going, to keep hoping, and keep loving. She makes that promise to herself, seals it with another kiss, and when she opens her eyes to look upon his face, she smiles.
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"Then hurry back to me." Yes, she'll miss him, too.
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But their defeat changes everything. It changes how they can proceed, if they want to prevail in their goals. The soft clutch of her hand and the sweetness of her mouth, John will have to give that up for the present. His fingers tighten on her hip, and he exhales hard as the kiss breaks.
"I will," John promises. Has he ever promised such a thing before and meant it? "Just promise me that you..."
What? What promise can he extract? Madi will do what she must. John knows that. He trails off, eyes closing as he rests his forehead against hers. Many things live, unspoken, in that unfinished sentence.
no subject
No, she cannot promise that which she cannot keep, and yes, she will do what must be done. Of that there is no question, no doubt. So what can she offer to soothe his mind? What promise is there she can uphold, when so much is unknown, intangible, fleeting?
Only to keep going, to keep hoping, and keep loving. She makes that promise to herself, seals it with another kiss, and when she opens her eyes to look upon his face, she smiles.
"I will."