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♔ harvest moon ~ (dream/kitten)

Osheaga

Supernova
Joined
Jan 9, 2009
Location
Nova Scotia


            • Once, the fresh, August air was thought a burden by a particular valley inhabitant. After her sudden arrival from the clutches of the bustling city, she was greeted with an overwhelming waft of salty sea air and an uncomfortable dose of pollen. The first few weeks were indescribable hell. She found herself visiting the local physician more then she had planned. She remembered the countless days she'd spend holed up in her hotel room with the windows sealed shut to prevent any more cumbersome summer allergy inducers from ruining her stay. But now, she'd give anything to be bothered by the valleys impish little impurities. No longer had it been a temporary hovel, but a permanent home. A home to her career, a home to her friends, a home to a man in which she would travel to the ends of the earth for, even if it only meant hearing him whisper her name.

              A familiar low light lined the subtle dirt roads that traveled through the entire countryside. The ornery light fixtures cast shadows where they were otherwise were unwanted, but allowed a tempest pair of jade eyes to see familiar colors. Burning orange and subtle baby blue ribbons draped the entrances to the inn and left the French styled light fixtures conjoined. Throngs upon throngs of children scampered down the chipped sidewalks toting with them bags filled to the brim with goodies, while others flaunted their decorative masks and fire-crackers. The green-eyed woman stopped dead in her tracks as only to observe the unused firecrackers the children had, only to be greeted by a kind, innocent voice. "Tattoo lady?" Ever so startled, the tall woman peered downward only to be overwhelmed with nostalgic merriment. "Pepper Jack!" She dropped her bags and suitcase, then swung her arms around the boy ... the boy that was no longer a boy, but a growing young man. Over a period of ten months he had grown dramatically.

              "I missed you," she whispered, placing a chaste kiss on the child's cheeks. They were sticky, no doubt from the candy he'd been munching in, and had an essence of saltwater toffee. "'Stelle stop! Your embarrassing me!" He squirmed though could not deny the embrace this woman had gifted him with. "I'm gonna go tell momma!" he cried gleefully. Estelle reached out, clutched the child's shoulder and hoisted her finger to her full lips. "Shh. Don't tell anyone yet, alright?" she questioned. The child nodded, collected his spoils, and proceeded off with his group of colorful friends leaving Estelle to continue her trek. She drank in the familiar buildings - the bar, the shops, the homes - and sights of people. The place she wanted to be most of all at that moment was her own home. As she traveled further away from the town center, the lights and collections of people grew tinier. She made note of the couples that traveled along the boardwalk pointing at the stars, something she could not wait to do with her special summon.

              It didn't take long for her to arrive. Her home, as she remembered it, was ensconced amongst of a copse of massive oak trees. She veered up the steps, pried open the door and dropped each piece of her luggage only to drink in the clean scent of her home. "It's ... so nice to be back."


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  • Weeks seemed to just flutter on by like dying leaves falling from a tree. To Hank, it was astonishing how life appeared to have just snapped back to the way it was before the wonderful woman touched his life. The routines he used to do came back, one-person meals were common, and days spent just sparsely speaking wasnâ??t that unusual for the giant. Surely, there wasnâ??t anyone that was still afraid of him, but the rough edged look he had about himself was still enough to keep the villagers weary of him when he wasnâ??t trying to be as small as he could beâ??which wasnâ??t very often unless children were around.

    The brunette spent most of his time doing his work though, fetching left over bits of the last eventâ??s fireworks and rebuilding ones for the next. Once a week, he found his way towards Estelleâ??s house to clean and tidy up. Not that it became messy with no one living there for the last few weeks, but he figured it was best to dust and organize some things for when she came back. If she came back.

    But no, she had said she would, so he wouldnâ??t doubt her. The big and burly man chuckled at the thought of how he was, like some desolate spouse waiting for their loved one to come back to them. Hank knew he would always be part of this village though, so it truly was based on faith that Estelle would return from the city. Yet weeks turned to months, and soon, it was touching much too soon towards a year.

    On one particular day though, he decided to skip the usual route of breakfast and found himself in Estelleâ??s house. The place was as neat as ever, if only a little dim from the sun not quite shining in. He had been placing off organizing the closet space, so he was determined to get it done this week. Paint, canvases, brushesâ?¦ all sorts of materials that his lover had mentioned stalking up on had been shipped and waiting to be stalked still. Hank still had it in his mind that she was going to returnâ??no need to doubt, right?â??so he had preemptively decided to stalk up her house with the art material.

    The closet had been reconstructed though, to fit all the material, and it was large enough that even the giant was able to fit in there neatly. His squared shoulders moved with ease inside of the space, as he twisted and turned to place the items into sections and coordinate them alphabetically within their own categories. A few shuffling sounds were muffled through the closet though, and only when he heard a voice did it draw enough attention from him to drag him from his task. It wasnâ??t uncommon for villagers to walk by here, after all, but the voice sounded like it wasâ?¦ inside the house.

    Curious, Hank peeked his head out of the closet, with most of his body still inside, and took a look around. What he saw, made him drop the paint brushes and gawk. â??Estelle!â? he gasped. Yes, he expected for her to return, but he was also surprised to see her for some reason. How silly he must have seemed, partially sticking out of the closet and gawking, when he was anything but bulky and awkward at the angle.[/list:u]
 


            • An indescribable emotion suddenly washed over the winsome woman. She scolded herself and did her very best to still her overactive heart. Throughout Estelle's entire life she often chided herself for displaying too much emotion - in fact, she found herself doing it frequently when around Hank. But ... Hank made her feel at peace. It was his kind, soulful aura that made her realize displaying her emotion did not always result in negative outcomes.

              "Hank ... why are you ... in the ... closet?" She questioned. Her voice was soft and fatigued, devoid of much fervor, but filled to the brim with pure merriment. She addressed the monstrous man only to be hit in the face with a familiar and overpowering aroma of pine-sol and minty smelling wood cleaners. Her emerald eyes sparkled with pure interest as she stepped closer, skillfully lopping off her sneakers in the process. She was left bewildered by his actions but decided that an answer wasn't important.

              She neatly placed her footwear aside the door and shoved her luggage to the side, taking long, elegant strides. Gently her manicured fingers reached out and furled around his wrist, gently prying him from the clutches of the closet. It was there the woman was then left overjoyed, and pulled the man into a tight embrace. Literally dwarfed by Hank's size - even despite her Amazonial height - she held him. It was his familiar warmth that left her breathless and ebbed her fatigue, the hardness of his broad, tattoo-riddled chest that put her at ease.

              Estelle buried her head in his chest, pushing her bangs away from her ginger-ale gaze and giving her a clear view of his chest. She had nothing to say; nothing to mention, she only wanted to revel in being home.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
  • â??Who, me?â? he asked, mirth dancing in his eyes like fireflies. The giant was obviously trying to keep his cool, as it would have been unbecoming to just burst with the excitement he felt at seeing Estelle home so soon. â??Well, Iâ??m just coming out of the closet, thatâ??s all.â? he jested, taking a smallâ??though large compared to othersâ??step out of the closet.

    Hank watched her take a breath of the area, before he was pulled into a tight embrace. His own arms automatically wrapped around her smaller frame, feeling as if things were falling back into their rightful places. Hugs with the children were mandatory with the little guys, but they were so tiny, he was always afraid heâ??d harm them. With Estelle, she was just the right size that he never feared heâ??d break her. With a rush of inscrutable emotions, he gave her frame a firm squeeze, nails digging into her side without thinking, as he buried his face against her neck and breathed in her natural and slightly spiced scent.

    â??Damn-it, Estelleâ?¦â? he growled, chest rumbling with the husk he let out with the words. She had been away for such a long time that it felt like years rather than months. Reining in his burst of relief, excitement, and brittle joy of seeing that he had been right all alongâ??that she had returnedâ??he pulled back and ruffled his own tuff of hair. It had been shaggy before, but now, the brown hair was buzzed cut. It was a good style for the coming warm seasons, after all. â??So, what do you think?â? he asked, waving his other hand around the room, seeking approval for what heâ??s done for some odd reason.​
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            • "I think you work to hard," she replied playfully, giving the man an ever so gentle nudge in the dead center of his chest. "But in all honesty it's wonderful. I'm glad to have been in your thoughts while I was gone. I hope, however, that this didn't outrank your priorities. Speaking of which, it's a Thursday night. Shouldn't you be at work?" She crossed her arms over her bosom after relinquishing his embrace, standing at a casual stance.

              Of course she was only teasing, wondering if he had in fact made her top priority rather then his career. Who else was going to supply the festival with fireworks? After all, today was the first day which marked the opening of the ceremony. Estelle remembered last year she did a dance with some friends of hers from the city. Since she had been gone she wasn't contacted or incorporated into the dance, but she felt that the mayor of the village would find out she's returned soon enough - and ask her to participate in the following evening's routine.

              "Seems likes I've been gone for ages. I mean ... you even went so far as to chop off your hair. You look good, though! Much more professional without that shaggy, unkempt mane getting in the way of your gorgeous eyes all the time." She reached up and used his chest as support to run her fingers through his now short, cropped hair, which felt like sandpaper to her sensitive touch. "It feels like your stubble," she chuckled.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
  • Despite being taller and generally larger than Estelle, the brunette had no qualms on leaning his head towards her hand and nearly nuzzling it as she felt through his short hair like some attention seeking puppy. His emerald eyes werenâ??t glistening with any strange emotions, but they were vibrant in the joy that he felt inside from having his loverâ??if they were still thatâ??back again. â??Perhaps I should keep it like this? Attract those lovely ladies of the village with my seductive eyes.â? he teased, bringing a hand up towards his chin, and rubbed the back of his hand against the stubbles he had yet to shave there.

    They would have to know that was not going to happen though; at least, it wasnâ??t the purpose of his short hair. Hank was a man that was sure in himself and despite that he had traits that could be used for seduction, he was one to keep to himself. Having women fawn over him was not something he desired like some males did, and more so, he was too awkward and gangly in his build to even picture himself attempting it.

    Hank chuckled a bit at the thought of him trying to be who he wasnâ??t, before shaking his head a bit. He leaned down to nuzzle his head against Estelleâ??s neck and collarbone, teasing her skin there with his stubble-like hair, and feeling like the brush used to groom her. â??Iâ??ve taken a day off. Besides, Iâ??m a big boy, I know how to balance work and play.â? the small grin that stretched his lips was almost strange to see on him, but the man wasnâ??t at liberty to care.

    Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled them close once more until their frames were pressed together. Until corrected, he saw no reason to not assume they were two seconds away from throwing each other against the next surface available. â??I demand that you tell me everything that youâ??ve been up to. Such a boring and uneventful life I live in this little village, if youâ??ve notice. But before that, Iâ??d like to ask you to join me in todayâ??s festivalâ??Iâ??m sure the Mayor would be glad to see that youâ??re back. And so would Pepper Ann and Jack.â? of course he hadnâ??t known that Estelle had already seen Pepper Jack, and while it was uncharacteristic for him to speak so much in one settling, he found he didnâ??t care to stop himself with Estelle back.​
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      • Much like Hank, Estelle wasn't particular to men gallivanting around her non-stop. Since the moment she had arrived in the tiny, virtually unmapped valley, she had caught wind of several admirers. From Jared the friendly carpenter to the unnamed apprentice dairy farmer that lived out in the field with his old man. Estelle didn't desire any of the men in the valley. She never pictured herself married, or with children. She was a twenty-four year old, tattooed, traveling artisan that never had established any home.

        All of that changed when she met Hank.

        "Nothing interesting enough to bother mentioning." Her voice grew quieter all of the sudden. She had to admit, her sudden disappearance wasn't for a vacation or any leisure. It was in lieu of lament, not pleasure. Moping around and spreading negativity was unlike her. She lifted her chin and subdued the abrupt wave of sorrow. She was home now. Home with her friends, with her home, with Hank. The past was the past and she of all people did not dwell on it. Her winsome eyes swelled with the same tempest fury they once bore and she felt the energy flood back to her.

        She thought the best way to recover from her discouraging venture was, at first, to be left alone and brood in her thoughts. But now, as Hank had appeared, the answer was quite clear. Here was her heavily tattooed, daunting angel, brought to her only to ebb the plaguing images of her lost family member that were branded in her head. As the man had mentioned the mayor, she tilted her head in his direction, almost in a quizzical manner. The major? Had she made such a large impact while living here?

        She approached Hank and gentle linked their arms, caressing the strong, tightly woven muscle that was his bicep. "I think I need a relaxing night out," she said ever so softly, "And a few drinks. Definitely a few drinks."

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  • The brief squeeze to his bicep made him flex them, showing unconsciously how heâ??s been keeping up with his routinely exercises. Hank felt the wave of depression crash upon their mental shores roughly though, noting that it wasnâ??t the best thing to speak about with her right after she had returned. Not that he was a man that knew exactly what to say and when to say it, but he knew at least some things that he shouldnâ??t have mentioned. Even still, it wasnâ??t the time to dwell on it and how he could withdraw it, since what was done was done.

    Wrapping his arms around the other form, he pulled her close once more and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Her spiced scent hit him, reminding him of something he had associated with as part of home and comfort. â??Estelleâ?¦â? he murmured, swaying her a bit as if there was some song playing in the background. As noted, Hank was not a man of words, so he didnâ??t know how to give comfort. Deaths had been had around his life before, so he knew the similar pain that stabbed into oneâ??s heart and soul. It tore the mind into pieces, sending the individual into agony and despair. Some remained in disbelief at the idea of a death, while others tried to live for the living instead of the dead.

    Instead of speaking, he wanted to offer her something else besides a drink. Similar, as he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Just the initial contact caused his mind to swirl with delight, haze the senses he had. The giant leaned his head down just a fraction as he deepened the kiss, drinking her in and hoping that he gave her back as much as he was taking. They werenâ??t perfect against one another like before, there were more hard edges that mentally kept them from just clicking like pieces of the same puzzle. Their physical body still had much to remember, as their kiss was not only awkward, but either too soft or too harsh at intervals.

    But it was the imperfections that stole his heart.​
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      • "Hank ... I often find myself feigning merriment. I learned the hard way I'm just fooling myself. I promise - more to myself then to anyone else - that I will start being more genuine." Death was natural. It happened frequently, but it wasn't an issue Estelle found herself addressing daily, monthly or even annually. When death reared its ugly head she, like a normal human being, was left discouraged. Though she hadn't seen her dear father in countless years he was a good man. Her depiction of a real man.

        He'd come home after spending 12 hours outdoors erecting homes for new families, muddy and draped in soot. Estelle's mother, a goddess for lack of a better term, would hole herself away in the den sewing blankets for the winter to come while awaiting her husband's return. Those times were simple times, but the ones Estelle valued most above all. The twilit runs by the ocean with her brother and the basking in low July light underneath the elderly birch tree atop a nearby hill ... all things she treasured, now lost to the kind clutches of time.

        She was overwrought by nostalgic thoughts as Hank sought to sooth her mourning soul with none other then his embrace. His aura was dizzying almost. He made her knees damn near buckle, and head spin like a tempest storm. She could feel the length of their eyelashes tangle in their passion while she opted further into the density of his chest, craving that hardness that made her feel safe and cared for. She realized just then and there how lucky she was to have been given this man. Though she did not believe in God - nor did she practice any particular religion - she felt the need to thank someone for sending him her way.

        Much to her own dismay she broke their passionate kiss and rested her head abroad his chest. "I've lied to you so much," she uttered. "Every time you brought me dinner when I was ill I showed you only contentment when in fact ... I was purely ecstatic. That time you made those fireworks and set them off by the strand ... I displayed the same blandness when I was overwhelmed with the rawest form of joy. I promise I won't lie to you anymore."

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  • When the kiss broke, Hank briefly wondered why. It wasnâ??t until she muttered that she had lied to him, did he think that he had done something wrong. Then again, he had to remind himself not to jump to conclusions, because there was no need to bring unneeded negativity and worries into their rebuilding relationship. From what she was telling him though, the burly man had to wonder, â??Why?â?

    And truthfully, he didnâ??t mean to sound so confuse, but he was. For a moment, Hank pulled back fully, so that they didnâ??t have to look into each otherâ??s eyes without going crossed-eyed. Confusion was clearly painted on the tanned face, his eyebrows crunched up together like a wrinkle in a sheet, lips parted halfway as if trying to formulate the correct words. There really didnâ??t seem like a nice way of putting what he wanted to ask, but he supposed that honesty with Estelle would be best, least he didnâ??t get his answer.

    â??Itâ??s justâ?¦ I donâ??t care what you display, Estelle. I care about how you feel in the end, whether or not you show it to anyone. You havenâ??t lied to me, youâ??ve justâ?¦ delayed the reward.â? he tried to convey. At least, thatâ??s what he tried to doâ??who knew what it came out as to her ears. Even to himself he sounded too mushy, yet he had no shame in keeping his words as is. A large hand came up to brush through what little hair he hadâ??pet it reallyâ??and a rough sigh escaped his lips. Affectionate sigh, rather than frustration though, as he looked at Estelle as if she was a child and shook his head with a grin on his lips.

    â??Has the city life been adding sitcom-drama into your life, Estelle? Iâ??d say a few days hacking the firewood will do you goodâ??puts hair on your chest.â? he teased, nudging her shoulder to be playful, but underestimating his strength and knocking her a bit harder than he had anticipated. The thought of mourning for a lost family member had him thinking in the back of his mind though, wondering how his own family were doing. Along with that, he had to wonder what Estelleâ??s family was like, but that was a horror to face another life-time.​
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      • "After my oldest brother left both myself and my mother alone, I felt that I had to step up and be the 'man'. My father was working nearly twelve hours a day and my mother needed a brick, someone that knew how to be a strong foundation, while he was gone. I knew this was a role I could play. As I grew older I began absentmindedly suppressing my feelings. I guess you could say I became the unofficial bodyguard of my household." And with that, she felt no need to further explain herself. A wave of relief washed over her; she was absolved of her fibs and knew that both she and Hank could begin anew.

        "The city," she spat. Her voice was dark and venomous.

        "Such a cumbersome place ... the air is always thick with smog and a scent of rotting garbage. Trash litters the streets, scantily clad young woman scour the terraces like motherless bimbos and above all, there is no art. All I could salvage from the mess was the garbled, marred conjunction of city lights. Other then that it was a horrible experience. The sounds kept me awake all night."

        Yet another displeased sigh fled her lips, but it was replaced by her stance, which was much more uplifted. She seemed to be free of the burden she had been toting about like some accessory for a fair amount of time now. It had been weighing heavy on her heart since the funeral; never had she felt such a massive veil of guilt overcome her so easily. Rather then wallow in intangible hatred, she took Hank's hand in hers, giving it a tight, reassuring squeeze and reveling in the quietness of her house.

        "I'm going to stay here for the night. It's been a long, long time since I've been home. I'm going to just go whip up a quick snack and go to bed. You're more then welcomed to say, but I wouldn't be upset if you decided to enjoy the evening's festivities."[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
  • While he wasnâ??t sure what to think of the city, after all the years being away from it, Hank didnâ??t think it was the time to further the discussion on the topic. Instead, he just held her as she would allow him to and listened to what she had to say. The thick air and rotting garbage. . .it reminded him of slums and he had to wonder where she had grew up in. It didnâ??t matter in the end though, as they were now out in the village, where the air was clean and the village folk were less spiteful and friendlier towards one another. A tight community was a good turn for many things in life.

    When she mentioned that she was not going to the eveningâ??s festivities though, he had to pull back just a fraction. â??Iâ??m sure the mayor can handle one night without me.â? he teased, running his large and warm palms over her shoulders and down her arms. With a firm squeeze that showed he wasnâ??t worried about bruising or breaking her, he took a step back and turned towards the kitchen area. â??I made sandwiches earlier, in fact, so perhaps a bit of that would be best?â? the giant still had to duck his head just fractionally when he walked through the kitchen entrance. It was something that he always felt embarrassed about, as he had built this arch, but hadnâ??t thought about building it higher than eyelevel for his convenience (assuming heâ??d be over often at the time).

    Once in the kitchen, he fished out the sandwiches and placed half a deli-style sandwich on a plate with three or four large slices of potato chips. â??Want to eat here or in bed?â?
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      • "Upstairs," she uttered drably. Her eyes were dying, overtly fatigued, and she was hindered by her overwhelming hunger. It took nearly all of her energy to venture upstairs but the trek was more then worth it. Her room - the master bedroom - was clean; dustless, the bed's comforter free of wrinkles and smoothed over to perpetual perfection. Everything was just as she had left it. The dull moonlight shone restlessly in through the window which was left a smidgen ajar, casting a luminescent spotlight over her cot.

        Without much further waiting she flopped down on her bed, sinking her entire weight into it. The mattress molded around her curvaceous frame drawing her further and further into its spongy content. She planted her face square in the blanket, burying it deeper and deeper until she could no longer draw in a breath. She felt the moon burn at her backside, taunting her to enjoy its exotic glow, but she felt the need to revel in the nostalgia that was the softness of her since-missed bed.

        I didn't realize how nice it is to be home.

        She flopped over and cradled a pillow to her chest, leering absentmindedly at the ceiling. Her chest heaved as she watched it unwaveringly while taking note of the uneasy floorboards which cried under Hank's weight as he trekked up the stairwell. In the dead silence of her chamber she laughed, a heart one at that. [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
    • Nodding his head, he moved to pick up the plates and then began to follow Estelle upstairs. Hank hoped that Estelle hadnâ??t mind the fact that he had even ventured into the master bedroom to clean, as he didnâ??t want to leave the place collecting dust and the stale scent if left alone too long. Once in the bedroom, he watched as she nearly sunk in the bed with her frame, almost as if she was sinking within herself at the same time. Theyâ??re body types were of the large variety though, so he didnâ??t feel guilt for thinking that she was an Amazonâ??sheâ??d understand it as much as he understood he was a giant.

      â??Seems like you miss the bed more than me.â? he muttered, placing her plate down on the nightstand with a small clank. While his tone was a bit reprimanded, the corners of his lips were quirked upwards. Moving towards the other side of the bed, he sat down and felt the entire bed bend to his weight, the springs in it giving just the slightest protest.

      There were plenty of things he still wanted to ask Estelle about her trip, about what her family was like, and if she had been happy to see themâ??though in an unwanted scenario. Nothing came to mind though, so instead of speaking, he began to snack on his own half sandwich. As he did so, he remembered that it was not wise to eat and then sleep, so heâ??d have to occupy her with conversation or so for the next two to three hours if he wanted to help her watch her health. On that note, he cleared his throat and attempted at conversation. â??Erâ?¦ is it good?â?

      Hank was a great conversation starter.​
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      • The very moment Hank sat down on the bed, Estelle rolled, hitting his backside with a rather upsetting smack. "You're too hard," she uttered blatantly, swiping a curtain of her coal mane from her beryl eyes. Her gaze traveled up his spine then to the back of his skull where there once used to be a healthy thatch of hair, but now, virtually nothing but a thin layer of peach fuzz. She took her plate in her jeweled hands, committing to her traditional eating habits. She peeled the top portion of bread off of the sandwich and jammed a healthy handful of potato chips inside. Her tongue flickered out through her lips, lapping up tiny, saucy dollops of mayonnaise from her fingertips, then she proceeded to reassemble her meal.

        The first bite was like absolute heaven. The mayonnaise fell onto her tongue; the crunch of lettuce, cool, smooth sensation of cheese and ham ... it was all perfect. The second bite was hasty, wanton even, and she found herself virtually devouring the sandwich rather then displaying her sentient manners. "Fantastic," she muttered through munches. "Jesus I needed this." She bore through the amassed condiments like a starving, emaciated Middle-Eastern child, munching, chewing, chomping.

        When the sandwich was perpetually annihilated by her starving jaws, she laid the plate on the nightstand and flopped back onto her accumulation of overtly downy pillows. "Thank you ..." she sighed, placing her hand over her stomach. Her top rode up over her abdomen, but she quickly caught it and smoothed over it. "You know ... I haven't felt this at peace in such a long time ... I missed the valley, the people, you while I was gone. I was pining for your companionship every night ... I never thought how empty it would feel to sleep alone. I remember years ago when I found it difficult to fathom even sharing a bed with someone."[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
  • â??Better hard than limp.â? Hank replied without missing a beat, mentally wondering if that was true in all cases. Gazing down at Estelle with a raised eyebrow, he smirked at her appeal. She wasnâ??t model beautiful, but more of the exotic glamour that attracted the common eye rather than the critiquing one. Just watching her eat seemed to make him hungry for more than his own sandwich, but like a gentleman he tried to be, he turned back to his meal.

    Each bite was filled with small bursts of flavor, combined with a chomp at the chip to add an even saltier tang. Hank was used to eating a bit messier than others appeared to do, as his fingers would often times squeeze just a little too hard on the sandwich without him noticing until the filling bulged out of the bread slices. He was rather lost in his thoughts of food, so when Estelle mentioned about missing him and the village, he snapped his head up and almost gave himself whiplash.

    The giant usually didnâ??t hear things like that, so he didnâ??t know how to respond right away. Instead of a mumbled thanks or something stated back in the same way, he spoke the first thing that came to mind. â??I got a new tattoo while you were away.â?

    Smooth, you dumbass. he mentally scold himself. Placing the plate down on the other nightstand, he wiped his fingers messily on his jeansâ??Well, that was smartâ?¦â??and began to unbutton and zip his pants. He even had to lift his hips and began to pull down his boxers with it, almost as if he was stripping for something else other than the excuse of a â??tattooâ??.

    It was more than that though. It was a network of spirals and curls, wisps of smoky blank ink that crawled around his left hipbone.​
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      • She watched tentatively as his bear-like hands ventured towards the denim and unfastened the zipper. Her eyes barreled down his flesh, over the tightly woven muscle and past his obliques. The ink was revealed inch by starving inch until she managed to decipher the tawny image written there. It was ... stunning, to say the least. Estelle's fingers reached out, tracing over the intricate design as she pulled herself up to line her gaze with the image.

        "It's ... magnificent." That being the first word that came to mind, but for some reason, Estelle felt as if she weren't able to access the vast archive that was her vocabulary that evening, partially because Hank's presence made her see in a garbled blur.

        She careened over and tickled his flesh with her lips, planting a ginger peck upon the baroque design.

        "If I may ask, what inspired such a transcendent piece of art?" Her breath was smooth and warm, traveling over the plain of his flesh like a regal tropic wind.

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  • He jerked unconsciously when she leaned in closer and kissed his hipbone. They had been away from one another for quite some time, so he couldnâ??t help but feel a bit of the apprehension that came with intimacy after the length of time. Even still, he was able to relax against her touch after a moment or two. Hank shrugged as an answer, before realizing that it probably wasnâ??t enough of an answer. â??Wellâ?¦â? and it sounded so stupid now that he thought about it. Then again, it was meant to be a reminder, so he found it inspiring, if not silly in the eyes of others.

    Luckily, no one else would be seeing it, if he had any say in it.

    â??You know, your eyes are like smoke designed orbsâ?¦â? he hinted at, tracing the slight tinged hints of dark, emerald green that had been mixed into the bleak blackness of the ink. It would have shimmered if he moved the light over it, showing that there was more to the tattoo than first glance.

    Shrugging, he moved to pull up his pants so that most of his modesty was covered up, before grabbing for a chip and munching on it. Something to distract himself really, as he didnâ??t know how Estelle would take it. Commitment was a frightful idea, and getting a tattoo was permanent.​
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      • The woman was rendered speechless for an instant. She felt a sense of pride well up inside of her. It was Hank's coyness that made her smile, that same innocence he had displayed all but a year ago. She often wondered why she adored his callowness. But, she decided it was best left unquestioned. Most other women would be fuming at the awkwardness their man displayed after nearly a year being gone but Estelle hadn't minded it in the bit.

        She was cognizant of Hank's adoration for her. It was a mutually shared emotion, this much she knew.

        Estelle wanted to let him know that he didn't have to commit to anything. They were together because they loved each other. Though they seldom displayed their affection or confessed it to one another, it surely didn't mean it wasn't there. It was the fact that Estelle wasn't infatuated with him that made her realize the affection she displayed for him was real and still blossoming.

        She leaned against him, pressing her breasts to his back and tied her arms around broad shoulders. She pressed her cheek to his, purposely nuzzling his rather sandpapery jawline. The friction between her smooth skin and his which was rough and rugged was quite a superb sensation. She wasn't used to displaying affection in such a ... cute way, but she felt playfulness was needed. "Why are you hiding from me?" she chuckled sweetly, swaying his body with hers, "Are potato chips more appealing?"

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  • Hank felt his lover press up against him and rub her cheek against his, which caused him to realize he hadnâ??t shaved for the day. Or at least, his five oâ??clock shadow had grown in without his notice. The spiky stubs scratched at her smooth flesh, reminding him of how much softer she was than he was, despite her being rougher than the women of the village. He looked down at the chip in his hand and shrugged, finishing it off before he playfully wiped his fingers against her shoulder. â??Depends. Are you as tasty as them?â? he asked teasingly.

    Without asking for permissionâ??perhaps he should haveâ??he maneuvered them so that he could wrap his arm around the Amazonâ??s shoulders. His large hand wrapped around the base of her skull and pulled her in close so that their lips meshed against one another. Hank felt the need to just devour her for a moment, so for the next minute or two, he did just that. Their kiss was passionate and bordered on violent, with his tug and pull, nip and bite, suck and thrust.

    Just outside, there were flashes of lightâ??barely there, if one wasnâ??t looking. While he didnâ??tâ??couldnâ??tâ??see the sprinkle of rock scraping against the atmosphere, Hank could hear the â??ooâ??s and â??ahhâ??s of villagers watching out in the streets. A meteor shower was flashing in the background, here and there, but he had more interesting things to pay attention to.​
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      • In all honesty Estelle hadn't expected this from him. She believed they were just bathing in each other's presence, playing, toying, being children if anything. She was overwhelmed by his size and his warmth, both impeccable elements he was notorious for. She enjoyed being dwarfed by his mass, it made her feel safe and as if she no longer had to play the domineering role. She was hungry for his affection just as her lips belted for his. There was not a moment where they were idle.

        Her hand found his skull, anxiously awaiting a head full of hair but was disappointed to find nothing but a waning layer of fuzz. They burned as they rubbed across the plain while she drew in his flavor. The other hand - which was mischievous but prudent - rested idle on his hip. Each digit twitched eagerly, traveling up and down his strong sides, following the curb of each rib bone. She could hear the whizz and pop of the pyrotechnic show outdoors just through the copse of oak-trees and up the hill.

        The sky grew bright, pinkish almost, and bright colored spheres rained from the clouds. The low pomegranate glow cast over his body as her fingers wantonly found his abdomen, trekking up, scraping the muscle, then riding up to his sternum.

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  • Lost in the moment, he hadnâ??t even realized that she had begun to respond to his advances. Not that he didnâ??t want her to, but he was seeking a comfort in his own desires, knowing that he would stop if she had asked him to, but also knowing that he was being selfish in taking what he wanted without permission or care if this is exactly the way she would have wanted it. Instead of responding kindly to her touching him back, he grabbed for her biceps and nearly flipped her onto her back.

    â??Let meâ?¦â? he murmured, voice rough with more than just desire. It was a need to consume her in something that was sexualized and hormonal. Like some beast laying claim to his bitch, he slid his fingers down her arms and locked them over her wrists. He wasnâ??t pinning her with his hands, but rather, his large frame and weight. Rough lips claimed hers briefly, nipping hard enough to bring blood to the surface, but not quite, before trailing along her chin and cheeks and neck.

    Hank felt a wild need to just have Estelle. The reassurance that she was here and back with him, and hadnâ??t decided to stay in the city. The giant knew he should back down, that he shouldnâ??t be so rough or possessive of the other brunette. But as much as he respected her and loved her as an individual, he found himself lost in the overwhelming emotion to just take what he could to assuage his desires and fears of the last few seasons.

    Strangely or not, it wasnâ??t sexual though. His hips pressed against hers and she would be able to feel that he was not in the least bit hard. Arousal was something he often times felt through his body, but this time, it was through his mind. Such a strange sensation, but no doubt, if she allowed this to continue, his body would get the message.​
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      • The woman was cognizant of this ... different aura emanating from her lover. It wasn't just sexual put passionate; wanton, she could feel the raw power seeping through his fingertips and the ardent glow in his sweet eyes. She feared he was being overwhelmed - and confused - with his desire. She would not let him persevere alone and decided to help him ebb his voracity. Rather then submit entirely, she reciprocated his rapture. "I'm not going anywhere, Hank."

        Her voice came from her full lips in a sweet, low whisper at first. She freed her hand from his grasp and propped herself up using the backboard as leverage and watched him. Her gaze was if anything concerned but also abiding. She tilted her head and pressed forehead against his, watching him through lawful eyes. "I'm here. I'm not leaving, not ever again. I won't ... I can't." She insured that he would no longer be haunted with the nightmare of her departure.

        She cradled his cheek in her palm, stroking, leering at the man longingly. "I couldn't hurt you."

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  • Her low whisper made him jerkâ??flinch really, from the suddenness that he wasnâ??t expecting. Hank had always been a man of few words and rarely did he express his emotions. But eventually, they would have to find a way out, and through experiences with Estelle, he realized that with her, he was unable to withhold the sensations behind the wall he built for it. Men, true men, as his father had once told him, did not need to show these feminine emotions. Need and desire and comfort werenâ??t as strong and masculine as lust and dominance and power.

    Despite knowing that, he didnâ??t fight her words and didnâ??t immediately turn his head away from her touch. Instead, he peered at her with a mixture of wild abandonment and raw need. Hank wanted to tell her he was sorry for snapping, that heâ??ll get off of her just as soon as his heart stopped hammering. But he didnâ??t speak, and rather than get off of her, he rested his full weight on her. Hopefully he didnâ??t crush her, but the giant trusted that she was a sturdy woman. Sheâ??d shove him off if he was crushing vital organs.

    â??Got â??xcitedâ?¦â? he half coughed, half growled out. As if that would explain and excuse why he had nearly just mauled her. The brunette male didnâ??t offer anything else though, as he curled up against her and pressed his face against her neck and shoulder. â??Still hungry?â? a small whisper, not knowing if he wanted to get off of her to let her eat if she wanted to.

    He damned her in his mind, for Estelle was like a cursed Goddess and a blessing at the same time to him. What you do to meâ?¦ he mentally sighed.​
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      • At that instant, Estelle's eyes went secretly wide. Something had come to mind that nearly made her plant her face into her palms, hiding her face from Hank due to her lack of observational skills. As he laid his head to rest on the nape of her neck, she allowed her hand to flourish and stroke the fine hairs atop his skull. Her being was gentle, almost unheard of as she laid on the soft bed, coveted by Hank's overgrown corpse. "I'm fine," she whispered prudently while gazing towards the ceiling.

        Her eyes reflected the dull light which permeated through the room, the flaxen flecks of gold in her tart emerald eyes glowing every so lowly. "Hank," she breathed, offering a callow tone, "I realize that I've been gone for a long period of time; a year that we have not shared anything more together then a shortened phone call. And ... maybe ... we're not ready to make love so soon?" It pained her to mention it but most obviously, it may have been the case. Maybe their togetherness didn't need to be justified by intimacy just yet ... maybe they just needed time together.

        "Do you want to go out for breakfast tomorrow morning?" She questioned, "We can have a nice big one ... 'go visit Pepper-Anne and everyone. Of course those are more of my personal chores but I'd really like it if you could come along."

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