Fingers grasped his with a warm touch as gentle as a mother's to her young child. Almost intimate
. Pale palms cradled larger, sun-kissed hands. Breath caught, hitched, in his tightened chest. Wisps of light brown framed cheeks red and shyly puffed, hazel eyes startled and wide. Wind brushed his bare cheeks, tickled lightly tanned skin.
The brunette cast a fleeting gaze to the hood resting on his shoulders, ashamed of the blush enveloping his nose and jaw. Lowering his head in sheepish timidness, Brynn caught quick sight of a scared look played across the angel's face, eliciting a deep frown from the boy. "The poor darling. What've I done?"
he brooded, gaze locking with the pale blue, glassy orbs for a tense instant.
The warmth fell from his hands and left them in what felt like an icy abyss, claiming the edges of his lips in a light pout. "O-oh," Brynn tugged the hood over his head, Venetian red cloth curtailing the brownish-green eyes, before standing to follow.
Adre moved swiftly with an almost delicate swing to his hips and shoulders that had the brunette guiltily staring with quick, forced breaths. His house smelled of pine and flowers and the nicer parts of the forest, a feminine scent not far from the white-haired angel's.
The room he entered was covered densely with books. So much so that he could not judge its size or colour, finding his gaze drawn over and over to thick, old books with carefully preserved covers and pages, their spines jutting out with words printed boldly that he was ashamedly mostly unable to read. His eyes then fell on Adre, as handsome as their first meeting.
“Ｗｈｅｎ Ｉ ｗａｓ ｙｏｕｎｇｅｒ , ｔｈｅ ｓｋｙ
ｗａｓ ｃｌｏｓｅｒ. Ｓｏ ｍｕｃｈ ｃｌｏｓｅｒ.”