her fallen angel

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"Hands up," I said tenderly.

Wren lifted her hands slowly as I took the thin slip dress off her.  Slowly brushing her wavy brown hair over her shoulders, my heart stopped at the sight of her pale skin illuminating under the silver moonlight. 

Like an ethereal goddess from the moon, she was so achingly beautiful. 

Ironically, the rush of lust in my head subsided. Rather than wanting to devour her within my embrace, I was overwhelmed by the want to hold her tenderly and carefully — in the most precious manner she deserved.

Placing a palm over the left side of her chest, the steady rhythm of her heart beating against the cold of my skin was causing a lingering pain in me and this was how I would engrave my love for her in the depths of my being. The woman ahead of me placed a hand over mine as she looked at me with worry in her eyes, she curled her fingers to hold onto my hand and I felt all her affection towards me — like a wave of warm light that shone through the tragic abyss. 

She whispered, "I'm here for you."

I sighed softly, kissing the back of her hand that she was holding me towards her and grounding me in the hope of this world. All the memories of us flashed right before my eyes:

The first meeting when she hid right behind Clarence shyly, our favourite corner in the library back in the main Illiades household, her close brush with death when she took a bullet for me during the gunfight in the Willoughby mansion, the freedom we desired etched upon the broken wishbone, her warmth when she held me through the nights, her tears upon our parting, the first meeting we had after three years of separation, our reunion after all these time. All that we went through felt like fine sand slipping through the gaps of my fingers.

I knew I was losing her.

And I had no control over my fate.

I wasn't sure what happened to Aillard, but I could feel the hurt he buried deep within him when I touched him. The bright-lit fire between us calmed down into the illuminating glow of a candle flame as the strength of our wants became different — it was earnest passion, rather than sheer desperation.

I leaned close, holding him in my embrace as I tried to calm his restless and insecure emotions. Softly pressing my lips against the tender skin on his broad shoulder, I mapped a trail of kisses up the length of his neck and gently raked my hand through the short strands of his hair at the back of his head. Words wouldn't convey my affection for him, and even when Aillard refused to say anything, I knew holding him tightly would be the right thing to do now.

My fingertips traced his searing skin, wanting to know the hidden cold scars he hid from me. His hands travelled up the curve of my back, counting my vertebrae as though not wanting to miss out on the slightest details about my anatomy. Our lips touched, memorising the taste and shape of each other. We moved against the rhythm of our hearts, beating in such a loud, affectionate, and unashamed manner.

I wondered what it must've been like, for two people to fall for each other before the concept of love was conceived. That was how I felt for him. It was as though we existed in a time before love — with the both of us waiting for the word to catch up to our feelings.

Slowly guiding her down into the soft sheets, I positioned myself in between her parted thighs and pressed into her tenderly. I lowered my forehead to her, till the tip of our noses touched. Our breaths mingled, and my heart shuddered at the softness of her voice against my lips. Holding the nape of her neck against my palm, I tried so desperately to hide the weakness in my voice when I exhaled, "Wren."

It was utterly pathetic — when tears started to burn the back of my eyes as I caged her in my embrace. And it was as though my sadness was properly conveyed, I saw tears falling from those beautiful pale blue eyes when she stared at me. She whispered, "I don't know what happened, but you know I'm always here for you. I'm always here, my love."

Afraid that I wouldn't be able to hold myself firm in front of her, I buried my face against the hollow of her collarbone and thrust deeper into her. A surprised gasp sounded against my ear, but she rounded her back to lift her hips while matching my pace. Her fingers dug deep into my skin, pulling me to her closer and closer to her love and light. I faced her again and she kept her gaze on me until it was too difficult for me to dwell beneath the sky contained within her eyes that I closed my eyes and strengthened my movement against her. Wren breathed heavily, arching her back as her knees pressed against my thighs and arms wrapped around my shoulders.

I felt her close to her release when her body bucked, and I carried her in my arms tighter, pressing my full force of myself into her release as she shuddered in my embrace. Yet, she wasn't intending of letting me go. Wren gripped onto my wrists and pushed her hips against mine while crying out softly.

I didn't know what I was supposed to do with everything I felt for her. No one ever taught me how to tame the ocean of emotions hidden in my heart. No one ever told me that I would drown in the depth of the love I fell into. The only thing: Wren's love kept me alive beneath the surface and I knew I would die without her anchoring me against the boundlessness of this darkness.

It was utterly pathetic — how I already began grieving for a loss that I knew was going to happen one day.

I couldn't remember how I fell asleep. I was too tired to even think and my body too weak to even move an inch. Grumbling while trying to force my eyelids open, I woke up to a sight of a broad chest and arms wrapped tightly around me. Aillard was still deep in his slumber but stirred awake when I moved. He murmured sleepily, "Awake?"

"Awake," I said softly, apologetic that I had woken him up as it's been a long while since I watched him sleep so peacefully. "Sorry."

"Why are you apologising?" Aillard frowned, searching for my gaze with his storm grey eyes.

"I shouldn't have woken you up," I explained.

"No, angel," Aillard replied, pulling me into a hug and patting my back softly. "Never apologise for something like that."

"Aillard?" I felt him flinch at the sound of me calling his name, and the arms that were holding onto me tensed. I dared to ask, "Will you tell me about you?"

"Wren," he murmured my name softly.

"Hmm?"

"Promise me that you'll always remember me," Aillard said.

This time, I was the one that went stiff. Pushing against his chest, I sat right up and faced him. I was searching for something within those storm grey eyes, but nothing comprehensible came to my senses. I exhaled, "Don't make me promise that."

Aillard's expression fell a little, with hurt etched on his charming face. I told him, "People only ask you to remember them if they're planning to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere, silly," Aillard laughed a little, but I noticed how the smile never reach his eyes and how the light refused to shine in those grey orbs.

Uneased, I warned, "If you ever leave me again, I will forget you."

"I love you, Wren," he murmured, pushing himself up to peck a light kiss on my lips. "I love you so much."

I had waited longingly for him to say these words to me. Yet, I wasn't sure why my heart ached, and his confession felt so bittersweet against my lips.

It was like a premonition towards an unknown twist of fate.

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