Bessa

Never Doubt The Wild

The trees are remembering to be green again.

Sunlight filters through the translucent curtains of the silk on my face.

Warm

Golden

Welcomed

"You are gifted." The Savage's voice is behind my right ear. His eyesight is on my fingers that are weaving the wool into pictures.

Warmth spreads upwards from fingertips to elbows; it slowly slides past my biceps to lick at my shoulders.

The heat descends.

Cupping the rise of my chest, feeling my torso past my rib line until it holds itself firmly against my lower abdomen.

Pushing the heat inside me, filling me with the pressure of him.

He's close, too close for me to breathe correctly. Even if he's standing in the doorway at the entrance of the house.

Inhale, pulling the veil of Silk tight to my lips.

"Do you need anything?"

Exhale, pushing the Silk away from my lips.

There is no answer for him during the day. I think he understands this now - that my voice is silent for his ears, just like my face is hidden from his eyes.

In the dark it's different, it's a grey world we enter when there are no lights.

"My father said that you should start back with your training. Do you feel ready?" A pause in his voice.

My fingers still...no movement.

A nod of my head, yes.

No words.

"I'll walk with you there." Standing, I grab the simple loom in my hands. He holds the front door open for me to step inside. He won't step outside, but he will stand there on the threshold just on the verge of stepping out into the sun.

Every time he holds that door open for me, he suffers internally. I can feel how his body tenses, how his gut feels sick. When he threw up the first few times just opening the door, I watched him, and we both had tears in our eyes.

He just couldn't see mine.

"I've made a dish to bring." His voice holds a tremble as I walk by.

My heart pounds.

Putting the Loom away, black fabric sits on my bed. On top of it sits a small flower, its petals are a delicate blue.

Picking it up by the stem, it's the first flower I have seen in this ice hardened land.

"It's the first flower of the season." He brings his heartbeat closer to mine.

The resolve is never to have my inner thighs tremble again, but I lose the battle whenever that beat of his heart draws too close to me.

"My mother gave me extra fabric that she didn't need. Your dresses are too beautiful to be ruined as they have been." The rise and fall of his bare chest catch my eyes.

The warmth is back pressing itself deep inside me.

His heartbeat draws closer.

Trembling without control, his nose brushes against the Silk covering my face before his fingers take the edges.

Desire is rising.

I gasp softly; he hears because he tries to catch the sound with his open mouth.