She was once as young, naive and foolish as the rest of them.
He had captured her like none before, something of inexplicably great heights considering she prided herself on being untouchable – the long-legged sleek-skinned girl that was always just out of reach. It began with a comment about the red-hot colour of his skin, something that now sent her heart racing and her thoughts in a whir, and ended with rougher touches and breathless words. Then, there was little more on her mind than love bites and other unmentionable things.
It was suffice to say that she soon realised her mistake. Immediately, she disappeared.
She hid away in various places, never staying for too long, but if her body would allow her she would always try and check on him. He could never see her, despite the desire that burned in her veins to just be within a neck’s stretch again, during this time for as soon as her lithe figure swelled with the telltale signs of pregnancy (don’t ask about the mood swings) she disappeared. Although her pride in her figure had something to do with it she was also unimaginably scared – of what he would think of her, of the child and what it would do to their relationship.
Quietly, with infrequent visits to her mother and grandfather, the once-child prepared and on one starlit night our golden girl became a mother.
He was, unmistakably, Dante’s. Albeit feeble in the wake of his beginning he peered up at her with such bright, shining eyes. They held that almost intangible quality that differentiated the bravehearts and the dreamers from the rest. One look into those pale, glittering eyes and Maltese was lost. “Soren,” she breathed against his wet cheek.
Now, still a little on the fluffy side, the colt obediently follows his mother – a title she never imagined she would have, at least not for a long, long time – along the shores of the Paradise. With a little twitch of his whiskers and his white lips, the shimmering child smiles and breathes in what he believes – his mother pauses and has that sad, lustful look in her eyes – to be the smell of his father; the one which his mother says has the same handsome face and charming smile. His mother and father are the only creatures in this world that would always be able to pull him from the allure of the world around him, and now he is especially enraptured by the idea of meeting the great stallion.
Maltese pauses, breathes one ragged, anxious breath and ravages the horizon in search of Dante.
They stand quietly in the waning light of an Atlantis sunset, sickly nervous and overbearingly excited.
“Flame-boy?” she whispers.
maltese & soren
|
