Starting to reel slightly from what she had just done – what they had just done, actually. Elijah had done a great deal to fan the flames after her initial spark – Amelia was grateful when Elijah non-verbally agreed to her suggestion. She offered no resistance when he pulled her to her feet, finding herself looking up from him again much the same way she had as their earlier dance came to a close. She again noticed how much taller he was than she, having to tilt her head so that the curls of her updo touched her upper back in order to see the smirk that cross his lips. As she did this, she and Elijah seemed to both have the same realization at the same moment that they were perfectly poised for a kiss, but this time it was Elijah who took the reins and leaned in toward her.
This is what happens when you let a drop of water through the dam, Amelia’s subconscious chided, not bothering to yell anymore because it could see that tonight’s battle had already been lost, You get cracks. And then the flood comes.
That’s okay, the currently more dominant part of herself retorted, I don’t mind getting a little wet.
The kiss this time was brief, more of a peck than a kiss, but Amelia was almost grateful, for she did not think her heart could take another one so soon. The shock of it was now beginning to roll over her, the taste and scent of Elijah lingering on her lips and in her hair and on her skin. She was in a sort of fog as Elijah led her out to the balcony, staying closer to his side now that the invisible barrier between them had been blown up by a bomb detonated by the touch of their lips.
Amelia braced herself as they reached the door, ready to feel the cold pierce her already icy skin, but the chill didn’t come, even after she had Elijah had fully come onto the balcony. The air outdoors was actually refreshing, in a way, and although she could feel gooseflesh rising on her arms and shoulders, it was easy to ignore. The snow that had fallen just a day before still blanketed the scene below them in white, surprisingly undisturbed considering the number of students at Hogwarts.
They were the only couple outside, for the time being, and as Amelia allowed her head to tilt back to view the sky uninterrupted by glass or stone she felt Elijah’s arms wrap around her waist. The weight of his arms settled onto the bones of her hips, blocking the wind from behind and the side, creating the sensation of laying in bed with no blankets covering you. Except her bed did not smell nearly this good, nor did it make chills crawl up her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature.
Although there was a slight obstruction to this path of inaction, Amelia leaned some of her weight into Elijah and allowed her body to become flush with his. She crossed her arms across herself and let her hands come to rest on Elijah’s forearms, not holding him there, but looking as though she might be. She knew perfectly well that this state of bliss would likely not extend past tonight, falling away with the light of the morning. As much as she would like to hold onto the girl who delighted in the touch of another, who took risks like kissing someone in a crowded ballroom, and allowed her feelings to be known, she knew that logic was likely to reclaim its throne in the morning. For now, though, she would put the thought from her mind and enjoy what she had.
If this is going to become a habit at dances, I think we are going to have to start working harder against Antoinette about attending them, her disgruntled logic complained from its suddenly very small place in her mind.
Amelia ignored this, instead focusing on Elijah’s words and the vibrations she could feel passing from his chest to her back. His words were an echo of earlier, except this time Amelia was able to let him settled onto her without feeling the need to pick them apart and analyze each word individually. She found that the phrase was somehow better understood without trying, because this time she felt as though they weren’t just words, but an actual expression of truth. This moment was rare, one that might never occur again, and she wanted to hold it forever and never let go.
Although she would have been content only with the first phrase, Elijah was not finished. She felt the vibrations lengthen as Elijah’s voice grew deeper, speaking in a foreign tongue she recognized as Bulgarian only because Elijah had told her that was where he was from. She did not speak a word of Bulgarian, and thus she did not understand what Elijah had said. Without pulling away from him, Amelia turned her head to look up and see the expression on his face, hoping from this that she might be able to deduce what he had meant. His face was set, holding a sincerity that bordered on seriousness.
A small part of Amelia wanted to ask for the translation, but after a moment of reflection she realized she didn’t need it. What the words were was not as important as the meaning behind them. So instead, Amelia lowered her eyes from Elijah and nuzzled herself into his chest instead, giving her own non-English response.
“Portabo is moment me usquequaque,” she whispered into his shirt, her eyes closed as she relished in his warmth and aroma.
I will carry this moment with me always.
by Rosalie Malfoy01 Wed Dec 23, 2009 3:23 am
