IMPROV: Mordred/Inara, "cold"
Sep. 21st, 2007 03:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mharific"Your hands are so cold," she says, taking them between hers.
"It's in the blood." His dark head is bent as though in confession, though he speaks easily. "It's the sea in me. I was born to it."
"You're a poet," Inara says lightly.
"No, just an exile."
The bitterness in his voice rises like foam. She touches his cheek. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I brought it on myself."
"That doesn't make it less lonely."
His eyes meet hers, scornful, defensive-- God, that look!-- and then falter. "Lady, forgive me."
She says gently, "There's no need, Mordred."
He kisses her then, seeking warmth.
"It's in the blood." His dark head is bent as though in confession, though he speaks easily. "It's the sea in me. I was born to it."
"You're a poet," Inara says lightly.
"No, just an exile."
The bitterness in his voice rises like foam. She touches his cheek. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I brought it on myself."
"That doesn't make it less lonely."
His eyes meet hers, scornful, defensive-- God, that look!-- and then falter. "Lady, forgive me."
She says gently, "There's no need, Mordred."
He kisses her then, seeking warmth.
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(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-22 12:03 am (UTC)(Oh, Inara, you're so good.)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-22 12:05 am (UTC)She iiiiis.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-22 12:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-22 12:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-22 03:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-22 03:47 am (UTC)