literature

I Haven't Forgotten 4

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A slow smile teased at the corners of her husband's lips, quickly growing to a full devilish grin.  "Oh my dear sweet mate," He murmured, eyes glinting with mischief, "How I do adore you... Wonderful. Perfect.  ...I think." He turned that gaze to her, and she felt a thrill of excitement at the dark pleasure in her lover's eyes, "Oh well.  Without question, we are going to cause some real trouble, this time through."

Lorna bit her lower lip, aware that encouraging this mindset would only add to whatever chaos the puck was spinning.  ...Oh, but it was hard to refuse him when he got that playful look of his.  Still.  "Real trouble being...?"  She pressed, not willing to commit to his scheme quite so quickly.  "What exactly are you planning, love?"

He laughed, and if it was a bit reckless, that was mostly the norm for him.  "We're dead right now, agreed?"  He demanded, jumping up to a low crouch, absently brushing aside the thread-like roots that fell across his face.  "No matter what we do at this point, the old man's going to kill us, right?"

His wife stared at him a bit blankly, then shook her head in futile denial.  The sounds of their impending doom were getting closer.  "Gods Bobbin," She whispered, finally giving into the sense of desperation that had been growing in her chest, "What did you really do to make him so angry?"

"I know you're keeping something from me."  She lifted her head, giving him an imploring look.  "Is it really enough to rate him killing us, just for... us?"

"Err," Bobbin hesitated, considering the woman, and how seriously she really intended to press this now.  His fingers tugged in an absent way at the strings of his bag.  "Right, so back to what I was saying..." He went on, pointedly not answering the question, or even directly acknowledging it, "We are in fact about to die, yes?"

His wife pressed her lips together.  "I suppose."  The words were offered quietly, and with no small reluctance.  It couldn't really be denied anymore, and the force of the explosions grew by the moment.  No longer either closer or further away, now they just grew more violent, more angry.

Unconsciously, Lorna sought comfort from her husband, leaning into him, and wondering briefly if their hiding place was about to become their tomb.

The way the whole world seemed to shake now...

Bobbin laid his arm across her shoulders, an equally unconscious gesture after so many shared games.  -and this did seem to be an invitation to a game.  Sort of.  He was grinning, just as he was always grinning, and if he was indeed 'scared shitless' as he'd claimed, he showed no more sign than ever.  "My dear princess," He teased gently, tugging on a ridiculously tousled strand of her hair, "My love, my playmate... My sweet, sweet mortal wife..."

Her lips twitched slightly despite herself.  He was laying it on thick now... Whatever he intended, she was sure to rue her part in it... But their was no question in her mind that she would in fact take part.  As he was so delicately pointing out after all, they were about to be killed quite horribly for the crime of marriage...

"So to hell with it." Lorna whispered aloud, tucking in tightly to Bobbin's side.  "I mean," She gripped his arm in both of hers, and looked up with sparkling eyes, "With this-  Lead the way love."  A murmur, no more than a breath, and she slid her hand down to cover his, wedding ring over wedding ring.  "You know I'd follow you across anything."

For one instant, when she said that, Bobbin hesitated.  He hesitated, and considered the half-mortal girl in his arms, every bit as smitten now as she had been on that merry chase across the Recesses... and the corner of his lip turned, in a rueful, unplanned smile, his eyes very briefly going soft.   "I'm going to be the death of you, you know.  I'm almost sure of it."

Then, not bothering to explain the cryptic statement, he caught her deftly by the chin, and cupped her face tenderly, planting his lips lightly between her eyes.  "Whatever you do, my dear wife," He breathed, catching tighter hold of her, and pulling her unprotestingly into the groove of his shoulder, "Do not let go..."

She wanted to tell him that the warning wasn't necessary, add some flippant comment amounting to how she'd chased him too far to let go of him now... She wanted to, but then there was no air.  There was no gravity, no senses, no existence...

And then there was no self, and no one left to care.
Once again... Love, trust, and the very void itself...
© 2015 - 2024 Ithy-Darc
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