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He was glorious, she thought wistfully, lazily blinking eyes gazing upon the form cradling her in a warm, firm grasp. He was so, utterly beautiful, that no words, no painting –even from his own deft fingertips– could recreate the sight that lay before her eyes.
She did hear him speak. Distantly, as if through a haze so thick that you could forget the pin-drop saying. No, an anvil could be flattened beside her ear and she wouldn’t even rouse. But the low hum of his chest pressed against her lolling head was well noticed, a soothing purr to her fading senses. Her gaze, no matter blurry, was settled on him as if he were just a slippery fish trying to escape her hold.
‘Rafayel,’ she wished she said aloud, unsure if her lips tinted violet were even under the circumstance to move. What would she say next? She adored the way his name rolled off her tongue, like a drug. The syllables were velvet in her mouth; she had loved toying with his name, testing out every tone and every emotion.
Had. Had, she wanted to recite in her muddled mind, wanted to stir until the past tense that should’ve been unfathomable made sense. Yet the only thing swirling about was the crimson that poured out of her abdomen, creating a stain in the pure, illuminated sea. Illuminated with moonlight; illuminated with the same light that lit up her lovers' form.
She could bathe in the cool, salty waters of the ocean for eternity, if his eyes –the most stunning she had ever seen, whether masked by his endless secrets, shining in glee at some silly remark, or dimmed by that bottomless sorrow– would rest upon her for however more moments longer.
This time she could just vaguely hear her name being formed, with her eyes tracing the movement of pursed, trembling lips. How could she tell him not to be despaired? To not speak with that same agony she would occasionally read off his twisted expressions when he assumed she wasn’t watching. That despaired look he gave her, every time she promised something, no matter how meager.
He held her, against foamy waves, looking all the part of the sea god she had only seen glimpses of, only learnt about through the lullabies he’d hum to her under the eyes and ears of the night. Wisteria hair shadowing aching eyes, framed by the simple, vibrant markings upon his skin that continued painting him down, accompanied by his glittering scales. She wanted to say his name again, a title that held such an incomprehensible meaning she could feel her emotions pound against her chest, resounding her soul, every time she spoke it.
Yet her head, too heavy for her body, was tilted back. Her lover's hands, which were cradling the back of her head and sifted through her hair that flowed softly in the sea’s waters, was the only thing supporting the weight she’d had otherwise dropped. Her body felt numb to her; she could only feel the dull pressure of her torso pressed against his, her legs originally crossed around his waist now sliding down as her consciousness faded.
He was holding her ever so close, his free hand, wrapped around her chilling form in a tender grasp, was caressing her arm that had folded to press her palm flat against his heart. Her other arm was weakly around his nape, frail in its delicate hold. His heartbeat was lulling her, ever so steady, in time with the waves and the silence the moon held over the midnight skies.
She could die like this, was her next thought, formed too sluggishly, but ever filled with love. Not just now; now was definite, undeniable, but more of; she could die like this in every life. Held by her darling Rafayel, within the sea she held such an acute connection to. To the rhythm of the waves, his heartbeat. His hands and eyes on her, soft and earnest and hesitant and oh so sweet.
‘I love you.’ And she could only yearn that the words were spoken out loud, with all the reverence of a cherished prayer, all the piling sentiments of her devotion. Her eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes the softest whisper against damp cheeks.
Rafayel felt the pressure behind his eyes. But his beloved bride wouldn’t be able to marvel at the luminescent, liquified pearls this time. “You broke your promise,” he whispered, and his anguish was swallowed by the same sea he had betrayed.