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Post by misa on Feb 19, 2008 18:02:17 GMT
Sorry. He was sorry? The thought that he felt sorry for her only made her cry harder as he kissed her gently and she wished it didn't, but the idea that he pitied her broke her heart silently. Yet in a way it mended her as well. Because she was sorry, too. So sorry for so many things; for herself, for Dylan, for her mother, for all she'd lost. Sorry was a confusing way to be. And the knowledge that there was someone there to share that confusion with was something of a solvent - absolution, in its own way.
Misa gradually became aware that Dylan was watching her carefully, concern etched into every beautiful adornment of his face. Such disquiet...gently she leaned into him and wrapped her arms round his waist, her head resting against his steadily beating heart.
"Thank you," She said breathlessly.
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Post by Dylan Woods. on Feb 25, 2008 19:30:00 GMT
Dylan wanted more than anything to let her know how he felt. But he couldn't think of words that described it, so he was left to hold her, as she wrapped her beautiful yet scarred arms around his scorching waist and rested her head on his chest, her put on hand very lightly on her back and the other he ran softly through her hair. He kissed the top of her head again. "I love you." he whispered into her hair, watching it as it shook in his breath. He rested his chin on her head and smiled, closing his eyes for a few seconds.
"Misa." he said softly, Dylan could not actually believe he was about to ask her this, "Do you want to..." he paused, could he actually say it? "Do you want to go to the Valentine's Day formal with me?" he said, it sounded stupid. He couldn't believe he'd actually said it. He was glad his chin was on her head and she couldn't see his worried and humiliated expression.
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Post by misa on Feb 25, 2008 19:52:06 GMT
Misa breath caught in her throat. Had he just...did he actually? I love you. She could feel the warmth of the words osmolising into her soul. He'd said it. And suddenly, every little part of her heart which had slowly been crumbling away, were pulled back together again, faint scars the only reminder that they'd ever been.
"I...I love you, too." She whispered into his chest. "I would love to go to the dance with you," she continued, finding strength in his support. Once before she had told him she was falling for him. It was offical she'd hit the bottom. No feeling had ever been more pleasant. [/size] |
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Post by Dylan Woods. on Mar 2, 2008 15:41:56 GMT
Dylan had never said 'I love you' and meant it to anyone in his whole life. He'd said it emptily to Molly before, but for her he felt lust and infatuation. Not love. Not powerful, overwhelming, emotion-filled love. Straight after he'd said the words he'd been terrified, not obviously so. Just enough to put his stomach in knots and to make him worry that she wouldn't feel the same, that he'd spoken too soon. 'I... I love you, too.' she'd whispered. He hesitation at the start had made him panic. He was so sure she was going to say, 'I don't know what to say.' But she didn't. She said she loved him. He felt positively eurphoric.
Dylan kissed the top of her hair, holding her closer to him still - if that was possible. He'd never felt so lucky in his whole life. 'I would love to go to the dance with you.' she told him. He grinned. Running his hands up and down her back ever so lightly, he gently rested his on her upper arms. He pushed her back softly and looked into her eyes. A mischevious smirk playing on his lips. "Now for the hugely important question." he said, leaving a considerable pause before saying; "What am I gonna wear?"
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Post by misa on Mar 3, 2008 19:22:39 GMT
Misa felt his warm kiss on the top of her head and she knew she loved him. How could she not? The shiver down his spin at his touch, the way her whole being cried out when he wasn't holding her in some way, the way just being around him was enough and never enough at the same time. She loved him. So much she couldn't imagine a time without him properly, not anymore. How had that happened? Without her even noticing the past was become a hazy field of far off pain and suffering. Dylan was how that had happened. And she loved it.
She allowed Dylan to tilt her head so he was looking into his eyes and she saw it right there.
He loved her. Her. She had never really imagined what someone saying those words could do to her. It was like...like the white on the walls wasn't so invading, so irritating. Like she could be in any situation and still smile.
"Now for the hugely important question." he said, leaving a considerable pause before saying; "What am I gonna wear?" Misa could help it. She was hospitalised, scarred, damaged goods. And yet she could still laugh. With Dylan she could laugh,
"Clothes would be a good idea," She suggested through her laughter. It felt good to laugh. |
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