[WIP] untitled;

music: rey zaburrel's piano - kiseki // kenji nojima (gundam seed sountrack)
mood: inspired


prompts: moonflowers, "I would know you, even if the world was remade.";


It is their third night on the road and the winds are not as harsh. Guards garbed in both Crane and Phoenix armor take turns watching the camp, but they all turn a blind eye when two particular figures sneak out into the night for a few moments of peace, together.

It is something that would equate to trouble and they know that. Though they are betrothed they have yet to be wed, and stolen moments like these are tainted with the thrill of defying propriety.

She lets him lead her across the grounds and can hardly hold back the smile on her lips when he pulls her close, his lips grazing her cheek to move to her ear. "We're looking for moonflowers tonight," he murmurs huskily the excuse that they will use for the night, and her eyes flutter just the slightest. "Did you miss me," he teases, his fingers threading through her hair. "Then again, you have your attendants to keep you company in the palanquin, you wouldn't have time to think of me."

She kisses him then, just slightly hesitant that her lips might miss their mark. Her hands slide up the cloth covering his chest, fingers seeking the flesh of his neck, the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek. For a moment, a heartbeat, a whisper in time, she stops; her hands tremble as the regret comes, swift like the truest knife.

"It is... not fair,"

He knows what she refers to and there is no hesitation in his actions. His arms enfold her in their warmth and he inhales the scent of her, freshly fallen snow and the faintest whiff of wildflowers. "You see me more than any, my love," he murmurs, catching her chin with the tips of his fingers and tilting her face up to allow him another kiss.

It is always like the first time. There is a newness that never seems to leave. Perhaps it is because he has seen her in the key points of her life: on her first day in this living world, as a little girl -- vulnerable but oddly brave despite injury; on the day she was presented to the imperial court and then again when she had surrendered her sight for a higher purpose. Perhaps it is simply because she is who she is.

Her hands ghost over his features and he shuts his eyes, giving over to the sentation of fingertips trailing cold kisses over his skin. "I would know you," she murmurs then, her words halting as if the cold were robbing her of breath. He pulls her to him again, his large hands cupping her small, pale face.

"I would know you," she states the words again, shuddering because of the cold. Her eyes are the pale moon reflected in the water of a porcelain cup. "I would know you, Seiichiro, even if the world was remade."