Topic: An T'anmoch Araon (The Evening Together)

SiannaFraiser

Date: 2007-08-30 03:50 EST
"It's a beautiful nigh' t'nigh'... an' I think I wan' ta see ya some more by moonligh', so I'm thinkin' th' walk is th' way ta go," he said, his smile never leaving his face as he looks down at her. He led her out the door smoothly, avoiding the other patrons of the crowded inn as if it were just the two of them - which, as far as he's concerned, it was.

As the lock clicked behind them, she shivered. It could have been the sweet summer air or possibly the moon's watchful eye, that spied down on them as they left the porch and made their way through the city. Perhaps it was the presence of him, as tangible as one of his sculptures. Her senses were intoxicated with the combination and she could not begin to tell them apart... their hands seeming to melt together in the moonglow.

"See me wi' eyes fighting sleep tae stay open just a wee moment longer? There will be many moons and many nights, mo chroidh," her chuckle lingering along the quiet cobblestones, theirs the only footfalls that set rhythm to the night. Another shiver raced up her spine as the breeze tickled her flesh. Lifting his hand, she placed a soft string of kisses along his knuckles, and then grinned with satisfaction at the small sounds escaping his lips.

The stars were twinkling brilliantly above them as they finally approached the building that housed his studio. It glimmered like a beacon overhead, the night sky perfectly reflected in the numerous large panes of wavy glass. She stopped solidly for a moment just to stare as he pointed to the building. "Why it seems ye sleep in th' stars, Johnny dear... a tower of th' air..."

Johnny Smith

Date: 2007-08-30 03:53 EST
He stopped as she did, the shivers she had sent racing along his spine with her soft kisses just fading, and looked up at the view he had seen so many times before ? this time with fresh eyes, seeing it as she must. His words were quiet as he answered her without thinking, his green eyes dark in the moonlight as he looked back down at her. ?An? I?m a man from th? stars, an? yer a fairy princess tha? deserves a tower pulled from th? skies ? will ya come up an? see it, then??

Her wordless nod was his answer, and he led her up the three flights of stairs to his apartment, never releasing her hand. For once the interminable steps seemed to float by without notice, and he only spared a brief, grateful thought that his latest sculpture was covered by a drop-cloth as he unlocked the door ? the rest of his attention was fixed on her face as he gestured her inside. He wanted to see every moment of her reaction to his studio, and yet he was anxious about that reaction. He was allowing her to see what very few others had - the privacy of his studio and its reflection of his very being. In a very real way, the apartment was simply his soul, laid out in the world.

The main floor was laid out to take advantage of those huge windows. A large, work-scarred wooden table stood squarely in front of them, a tall rolling stool set in front of it. Bits and pieces of unfinished jewelry and mysterious-appearing tools were scattered over its stained top. A very small anvil was set on a raised platform to one side of the room, along with a wire-pulling machine. On the other side, his work in progress stood waist-high, only its marble base showing beneath the drop-cloth.

Several finished sculptures in stone and metal were scattered carelessly around the large open room. Their subjects were varied, from a twelve-inch figurine of Harold Lowe sitting slumped at a bar counter cradling a cup of tea to a five-foot long mermaid sitting half out of the water, her hand lightly cradling a very small winged pixie, a look of awe on both their faces. The one thing all the sculptures shared was their amazing realism, the detail enough that they looked ready to breathe.

Above the open space of the main studio was an open half-loft with a ladder leading up to it ? no windows to reveal his sleeping space to the outside world. In contrast to the clutter of work scattered in the studio, the loft was furnished simply, with little decoration. There was only a bed covered with a forest green bedspread, and a nightstand and small dresser of light oak.

He shut the door behind her and leaned against the wood as he gave her a few minutes to look around. The expression on his face was strangely vulnerable as he watched her explore, though the heat in his eyes had barely diminished. He observed her moving gracefully through the space that nobody else yet on the planet had ever seen, the moonlight pouring in through the windows, and he could only hope she would understand the gift he was giving her now.

SiannaFraiser

Date: 2007-08-30 03:57 EST
Her cheeks had yet to relinquish the color painted there, first with his words, then the climb and now with? There was no phrase in English or her native Gaelic to convey the sense of honor she felt. After the other night she had doubted it possible to be any more aware of a man then when his body was stretched and in contact with her own. Not so any longer. This intimacy transcended anything she had ever been introduced to in her entire life.

Her eyes widened as she looked past him, completely ensorcelled. She tried to soak up everything at once and failed. There were too many layers. Too many items broadcasted deeper truths about him and she wanted to learn each one well, as if having those facts stored in her heart would make him that much closer, that much more real. All it was really doing, however, was making her feel like she had stepped out of time and into one of the stories she had told on cold nights to either amuse herself or an audience. It overshadowed the fantastic and rivaled the remarkable. She didn?t want it to end.

Shaking her head in amazement, she crossed to the worktable and ran her hands lightly along the smoothed edges. Traced her fingers over an intricate carving of initials ? J.S. The spot where she stood was so illuminated, it seemed the moon held her in its embrace, blurring all the edges, so she appeared to be carved of stone and draped in night, the fabric of her dress full of shadow. Her mouth was parted in wonder, her breath held for a long moment before beginning again in sporadic bursts. She set the stool to spinning as she brushed past it, having spied the statuary. It seemed as if they had all been waiting for her to come and inspect them further.

She crouched down low a moment, tentative fingers reaching out to float over a spray of water breaking against the mermaid?s perch. She could almost feel the sea?s mist against her face, the crash of the surf beneath her fingers. . ?Th? dobhar-bean (water woman)? a spiorad (sprite)?? her voice calling their names in a reverent whisper. His hands had made this. The ones she had kissed. Hands that had found every hairpin with tenacity.

Standing slowly, she extended her arms to steady herself. It was if she had been swept up in a relentless current that rushed wildly to far distant places. A moment passed, then two? the ticking of a clock the only anchor to the concept of time. She turned slowly, seeking sight of him, and found him still at the door. What she found took her breath away.

With his arms folded across his chest and one foot propped up behind him against the doorframe, it was as if he too had become statue? except for the flicker of reciprocated emotion across his forest green visage.

She had so much to say but could not find a single word that fit with another coherently. She was overwhelmed with longing and in the end could only manage to breathlessly utter one word --- desire, wonder, pleasure, gratitude and the unknown all at once.

?Johnny??

Johnny Smith

Date: 2007-08-30 04:00 EST
The breathy sound of his name, layered with all the emotions he had hoped to hear and more, propelled him from his frozen position at the door as nothing else would have. A few quick strides took him to standing bare inches from her, his hands caught under her elbows to pull her even closer. His green eyes looked almost black in the moonlight, emotion and desire darkening them almost beyond recognition.

Her back to the windows, moonlight danced over her tousled dark-brown curls, hid her face in shadows. For long seconds he stood frozen, the heat of his body magnified where hers pressed along its length. So close that she could feel the tiny shudders of released tension quivering his muscles. Her name emerged as a prayer, his voice thick and husky. ?Sianna.? He bent his head slowly, captured her lips with his in a gentle kiss as his hands slid up from her arms to her shoulders. The kiss deepened as he tasted her sweet, full lips, learned how her mouth felt against his when emotion wracked them both.

His grip on her shoulders finally shifted, his arms wrapping around her back, as he broke the kiss, as if to reassure her that he wasn?t pulling away. His eyes were closed, and he bent his head to rest his forehead against the top of her head, trying to conceal the tear, two, that were sliding down his face and shining silver in the moonlight. He hadn?t known how deeply it would affect him, bringing anyone but his twin into his sanctuary. Hadn?t dreamed how much Sianna would affect him.