Work Text:
The wretched creature desires to remain here.
The walls in the room shook. Sparks danced out of the crackling, cheery fire. The warm orange glow, a stark contrast to the cold white of whipping snow outside, draped the entire living room in a soothing light. Serena's eye twitched and she let out a ragged sigh. “Yes. But I need groceries.” She raised her hand up and brought it to rest on the side of Yveltal's neck. The cool sensation of his feathers became a prickle and then a gentle sting.
Gentle petal on the wind, your time in the sun is short. The mundanity of your battles are concerning.
“They're not battles. They're needs. Bread, milk, water. You know that.” Her eye twitched again and she let out a much longer breath. Her head slumped back into the tuft of feathers on his chest. Enormous wings came down around her like a shroud. “Please let me go.”
The wretch has much need of this Oblivion. A heavy shroud to warm feeble limbs in the cold winter of night.
Serena crossed her legs involuntarily. “Don't say it like that,” she whispered. She wrapped her arm around Yveltal's neck and brought his head next to hers. “Just let me go.”
Single note of life's orchestra, you desire to remain here.
“I desire to buy some bread and hot chocolate,” she mumbled, turning her head to plant a single kiss on the side of the pokemon's head. “Let me go.” Enormous wings came down around Serena and crossed themselves over her body.
She shuddered and let out a different sigh. Much lower, and breathy. “Why can't I go?”
The quiet life does not desire overmuch, but makes demands of Destruction. It is a force without peer. And you, gentle sparrow, have chosen to drape Oblivion with fine silk sheets and thy soft strands of golden hair.
Serena smiled and shook her head, then began to comb through the feathers on one of Yveltal's wings. “You make things so difficult.” She smoothed out several ruffled feathers and then added, “Is it the snow?”
It is this will - greater than yours, little sparrow.
Serena grabbed hold of one of the finger-like appendages towards the end of Yveltal's wing and ran her hands along it fondly. The motion came naturally, almost automatically, and a silence settled between them. Finally, in a distant voice she said, “I guess I'll go later.” She wound her arm around the pokemon's neck once again and pulled him closer.
Perhaps. For now, gentle petal, we dance in the glow of the hearth.
Serena uncrossed her legs.