“I didn’t know what to say, there were so many things I wanted to say and they all got stuck,” she says in a rush. “I was — I am just so … how can you love /me/?” She wants to say more, but the words, once again, get stuck. How does she explain to him years of being the lesser sister, of being overlooked and unseen, unwanted and alone? How does she put words around being able to see other people’s hearts, but never her own?
“No one has ever,” she whispers at last, “seen /me/ as someone worthy.”
Summer starts, dropping the dress she’s hemming into the dust. “Mordred,” she squeaks, heart speeding up. She’d started to believe Merlin had failed, that she would never see Mordred again. “Wh — ” She breathes hard and starts over. “Why?”
Haha, so do the other Mordred’s.
How bout I give you a list and you can unfollow me and follow them because they are quality? Yeah?
How about I squash you and follow everyone and pay attention to the people who actually respond to me? Like, oh, I don’t know, YOU?
xregicide-deactivated20140812:
”I‘m not stopping you, y’know.”
“You — you can’t possibly — ” Except, of course, he did. She could taste it, unfamiliar and so tempting. The knowledge shocks every other emotion out of her. From pale, she colours, ducking her head. Too many responses tangle on her tongue, leaving her speechless, able only to give him a pleading look.
“B-but I do,” he stutters, falling silent and for a long time he observes her, the way she reacts, the way she pales and lowers her head, the way she remains silent. “But
yourmy feelings aren’t returned,” Mordred mutters, nodding slightly before he turns and heads out of the room.
Summer is still captive to shock when Mordred walks away, and the most she can do is lift a hand, take a fumbling step forward, before he is gone. Blindly, she makes her way back to the lower town, conscious of very little save that she had someone hurt him irredeemably, and did not know how to fix it.
xregicide-deactivated20140812:
”I‘m not stopping you, y’know.”
“Does that matter so much? Is that the only reason you wish me to stay, why you cannot bear to lose me?”
Mordred swallowed, realizing his words had yet again failed him and he’d used them in the wrong context. “No because I-” he pauses, “because I love you.”
“You — you can’t possibly — ” Except, of course, he did. She could taste it, unfamiliar and so tempting. The knowledge shocks every other emotion out of her. From pale, she colours, ducking her head. Too many responses tangle on her tongue, leaving her speechless, able only to give him a pleading look.
Summer puts her head back for him, exposing her throat. Her hands slide down his body, spanning his waist, sliding lower to grip at his hips. “Mordred,” she says, and it comes out a whimper, pleading. She drops her hands to fumble at the lacing of her bodice.
Mordred’s fingers found the lace of her bodice, skillfully helping her loosen the fabric around her body, silently cursing himself for not being able to hold out like he had told her. The knight turned his attention back to her lips, ceasing the formation of any other words for the time being.
She’s so open to him now, the thread of curses intrudes like a slash of lightning. But then he’s kissing her again, muffling any words she might form. The weight and warmth of his body soon drives it from her mind; she slips her hands under his loose shirt and delights in the flesh she finds there. She counts each rib, moving upward to find the tense muscles of his shoulders.
The growl makes her shudder, in a good way. There’s an ache low in her body, and there’s not nearly enough skin. Please, she thinks, please Mordred; the thought is tangled up with yearning and need. She kisses harder, craving his mouth, his hands.
Mordred flips them over so he is on top of her, his lips trailing down over her jaw, his knee moving in between her legs. “I lied,” he whispers, nipping at the skin on her neck, “I can’t wait.”
Summer puts her head back for him, exposing her throat. Her hands slide down his body, spanning his waist, sliding lower to grip at his hips. “Mordred,” she says, and it comes out a whimper, pleading. She drops her hands to fumble at the lacing of her bodice.
xregicide-deactivated20140812:
”You left that part out.”
“I would,” she says, quietly, and steps forward to bury her face in his chest. “I would tell you anything, and it’s a little frightening.”
He wraps his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her head. “But I am not forcing you to, you may tell me when I am ready.”
She tries to cuddle deeper into his arms, and makes a sound of frustration at being thwarted by his chain mail. “I do wish you didn’t have to wear this all the time.”
xregicide-deactivated20140812:
”I‘m not stopping you, y’know.”
Summer flinches, and pales. “What do you mean by that?” she whispers.
”What I mean is that you’re the only one here that I know that has magic.”
“Does that matter so much? Is that the only reason you wish me to stay, why you cannot bear to lose me?”
xregicide-deactivated20140812:
”You left that part out.”
“Y-you’re not angry? That I didn’t tell you?” The fear comes out in her voice, rendering it small and high and dumbfounded. True, very few people have ever known the truth of her magic, but almost everyone who had become aware of how easily she read people, regardless of what they considered the source, found it to be offensive, as if she was revealing things they didn’t want known.
Mordred shakes his head. “No, I don’t ask you to tell me everything, Summer.”
“I would,” she says, quietly, and steps forward to bury her face in his chest. “I would tell you anything, and it’s a little frightening.”
