-- ･:*:･ﾟ★ ･:*:･ﾟ★ --
❝ regulus' mistake ! ❞
-- ･:*:･ﾟ★ ･:*:･ﾟ★ --
─── THE SALTY SEA air gushed, resembling an equinox's zephyr. The windows were opened wide, the tantalising breeze streaming inside of the guest bedroom, billowing the thin, cotton, transparent curtains forward. A celestial, golden sunlight poured through the tranquil room, cascading an ethereal atmosphere over the four, powder blue walls.
When Alaska begun to stir, body awakening from her deep, comatose slumber, she kept her eyes firmly shut. She was instantly greeted by a tangible, alluring sensation of Regulus' calloused fingertips waltzing along the staircase of her bare spine, sending a chorus of shivers over her body. He was writing something, cursive penmanship scrawling along her goosebump-coated skin, and she couldn't exactly decipher what it was. His breathing was steady, and she clung onto the sound, as if it was the most sacred thing on earth, just the simplistic thought that he was alive was enough to conjure up a surge of warmth in her body, and she thanked the stars that she was blessed with the presence of the beautiful boy.
Eventually, after what seemed like a perpetuating lifetime of her savouring the feeling of his fingertips grazing along her skin, Alaska's eyes fluttered open, and she soaked in the image before her with a lazy smile tempting the corners of her mouth, the feeling of his lips upon it still lingering. Reg stared down at her in utter adoration, his soft, dove grey irises swimming with affection, admiring her every blemish, her every feature, worshipping her, unable to comprehend how he got so lucky. His curls of raven black had been tousled and dishevelled by Alaska's roaming hands, tendrils lazily strewn across his forehead that he didn't have the care to brush aside, forming a blackout curtain. But, he still managed to distinguish that she was now awake, and he leant down, pressing a soft, tentative kiss atop of her head, a hand entangling itself within the blond tresses, fingers running through the waterfall of liquidised gold.
"Morning, gorgeous," he said, voice hoarse with sleep, but still sending electrifying currents of warmth through her lilac, blueblood veins, coursing with tantalising shocks.
Alaska tightened the satiny sheets around her bare body, and she smiled at him. "Morning," she murmured back in response, burying her head further into the pillow, one arm tightly secured underneath it.
"You're beautiful," he told her-and she truly was. He loved in an inauspicious, macabre blur of death and misery. He was plagued by a mark he was forced to charm so nobody could see it, nobody he cared for, anyway. Yet, Alaska was an enraptured, delirious escape in his life, she transported him to an unorthodox dimension, the anatomy of her was enough the rid him of any of the demons that lurked in the shadows of his life. She cured the lacerations life had smothered him with.