They stood on the shores.
A gentle breeze stirred her locks.
The moon shrouded in the clouds gleamed on the waves.
Her face lit up.
Her hands were in his.
His eyes were in hers.
His gaze was serene, calm and jubilant.
He looked towards the skies and nodded his acknowledgement, his gratitude.
In her, he beheld the scale of his triumph, the pinnacle of beauty and virtue, beauty which was perfectly replicated inside her as much as it was on the outside.
In her, he beheld the light which he would never be able to outshine.
She was the priestess, the lady who read him as fluently as if she had been his author.
He smiled. He had finally made it. He had arrived home.
A gentle breeze stirred her locks.
The moon shrouded in the clouds gleamed on the waves.
Her face lit up.
Her hands were in his.
His eyes were in hers.
His gaze was serene, calm and jubilant.
He looked towards the skies and nodded his acknowledgement, his gratitude.
In her, he beheld the scale of his triumph, the pinnacle of beauty and virtue, beauty which was perfectly replicated inside her as much as it was on the outside.
In her, he beheld the light which he would never be able to outshine.
She was the priestess, the lady who read him as fluently as if she had been his author.
He smiled. He had finally made it. He had arrived home.
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