【Wigolas】Till Time Do Us Part（7）：Dream Pt.2
本章巨甜！不甜不要钱！【虽然只是回忆，啊不，梦境杀
［目录］
前文请关注tag＃时海之隔
［Chapter 7］Dream Pt.2
Will was watching him as he slept. His pupils carefully studied every lash that cast down a shadowy black on the Elf’s pure blue eyes, every up-and-down of the breath coming out of him that had the scent of blooming flowers in May, every curve and line embedded in the tender lips, still paler than before after the turmoil of the Sea. Then flashes came back to him of old days, of days that seemed like heaven to him now, and he wondered if these were the same lips he had touched for so many a time, and if these were the lips that he would ever have the chance to touch again.
He still remembered. He still remembered — how they used to be, how they might never ever again turn back to be. After all these years in which time swooshed by and left him wounded and broken on this merciless Sea, he could still remember. Though he had given his lips to another, given his marriage, given his son, he had never given up hope, nor his heart.
He knew it was unfair for Elizabeth — but since when had life ever been fair? Not in appearance, or in justice. He felt guilty for her, for her fully-devoted love and his sickening replies. He did love her, just not that much, not that deeply, not for eternity. But he could not alter what he thought, or she. He had been told to move on, and he did. Yet life made fun of him, fooled him, tormented him, by throwing the almost-but-never-forgotten past all in a whole piece at him, hard and freezing as a bucket of sea water in winter.
Memories flooded him like a wuthering tide, overwhelming his mind with resentment and loathing for the unretrievable past, and dragging him down the vortex of sleep into the illusional trap of dream.
He saw a pair of eyes. Pure and soft, stirring with emotions as he remembered, dragging him into the bottomless pit, forever trapping him in its prison with no egress. And he was willing to be trapped there, for the rest of eternity, to the end of time.
The eyes drew near. He could see his face, the eyelashes fluttering in the beam of sun upon those eyes. He reached out his hand to touch him. To his relief his fingers felt the tender skin — he could feel him, even though in his subconscious he knew somehow this was unreal. But he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. As long as he was there, and he was his, nothing mattered anymore.
He stroked his long blonde hair and brushed it back those pointy ears, which were blushing from their heat. He noticed with wonder that two strands of hair had been braided into two thin plaits, dangling down over his ears, leaning on his shoulder. As far as he could remember, Legolas had never braided his hair before, at least not his Legolas. But this was not something to be concerned with right here, right now.
He lifted his chin and fixed his gaze on those rosy lips, tempting him with their watery radiance and fragrant scent. He saw him close his eyes, shutting that roaring blue sea behind thick curtains of black glittering with shiny dews. He saw red rippled from his lovely dimples and spread to the whole beauteous face, painting it into bashful pink. He saw him gleaming in the dim light of the Sea with the brightest gold beam, stopping his heartbeat. And for a moment he forgot to breathe. He just dived down into the luring trap of love, casting everything aside, and embraced the chill flesh with a thumping heart lit on flame. Then, when fire met water, when heat crashed into cold, both hearts burnt together, one kindled by the passion of flame, the other soothed by the gentleness of wave, and merged together into peaceful yet enthusiastic harmony, into the most sacred yet intimate combine.
For as long as a lifetime it seemed to him, they finally parted. The eyelids lifted before his eyes, the lashes tickling his skin as it raised, revealing again the calming blue, absorbing his soul into its depth.
The eyes — they were spiraling in the Sea, round and round, dragging him forever down.
Until into the deepest black they vanished, into nothingness but a sparkling blue still resistantly tinkling at the corner of his eye.
A tumble. He stumbled.
He woke up lying on the solid floor of his ship, second time techinically still on the same day, pushed by the same person. But this time Legolas didn't jump on him and threaten to take his life with a knife. He was sitting on the bed, still covered in white sheet, motionlessly staring at him. Legolas must have woken and seen him fallen asleep beside his bed and struck by warrior instinct — after all, this Elf wasn't use to waking up and finding some stranger dozing by him.
It was strange, thought Legolas, that I didn't startle awake when he approached me last night. Normally Elves, even when asleep, would pick up unfamiliar scent and sound around them, to defend themselves against assaults. But he hadn't react to Will Turner. Did this mean there was something special about this Captain he had just met for one day? Or was it merely the slack of his nerves? He had no clue. Or maybe it had something to do with the singing he had heard...
‘Are you the one who sang last night?’ he asked the man rising from the ground.
‘Yes,’ Will replied.
‘How come that you know the tune and speech of our people?’
‘I was taught,’ Will fixed his gaze on him, and stared deep into his eyes, slightly stunning him, ‘by a very fair teacher.’
‘You have met others like me before?’ Legolas was intrigued by surprise.
‘Indeed,’ Will's voice trembled with some unconceivable emotion, ‘Indeed.’
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