Blogging · Cibelle & Vohne · fantasy · stories

Tell me…



His gaze was waltzing on the paper more than he was reading, when she entered the room. He didn’t notice her at first… She had this stealthy way to move around the house that made him wonder if she had been raised by panthers, at times.

She actually was standing right by the old armchair when her silhouette finally caught his attention. Her smile was bittersweet as he looked up to her, closing his book and putting it away to give Cibelle his full attention. Moving his feet, he left her the round hassock, and she sat in front of him, eclipsing the fireplace that gave her a warm aura.

Anything wrong, Beautiful?

She shook her head. Her lips just barely moved as she spoke back.

I just miss you, Vohne…

He reminded her that she had been just next door, but it didn’t seem to change her melancholic mood. Cibelle leaned on his lap, resting her head gently… The cascade of her red hair looking as if Vohne’s thighs were covered with a fiery blanket. Diving his fingers in the silky waves, he waited patiently, in silence.

She was a riddle waiting to be solved, but he was in no rush to understand her fully. He enjoyed the mystery that always floated around her.

Is there anything I can do?

Cibelle turned her head to the side, and her face emerged from the red locks. Her eyes were suddenly different. Sparkling and looking intensely at him, Vohne understood that he had ignited some kind of desire in her.

Before he had time to wonder what exactly she was about to ask from him, this time, she had crawled on his lap, jumping on his knees like a cat. Curled up against his chest, he could barely feel her weight… She was so frail, that without the warmth of her body close to his, he could have sworn his arms embraced a ghostly presence.

He felt her excitement, as she nestled against him. He drank Cibelle’s clear giggles, certainly one of his favorite sounds, ever. She used giggling sparsely, and she knew the effect it had on Vohne.

Stretching over his shoulder, she let her pink lips follow his neck, and then the line of his strong jawbone, leaving a burning feeling on his skin. She breathed her way across his cheek, straight to his ear. When she sighed, he felt ready to get her the moon, if she dared to ask.

Tell me, Love… Tell me of your life in the mountains… Tell me of your life, when you didn’t know we would be. Tell me of your dreams when you used to runaway to the peak of the highest mount, and spent your nights with the stars… Tell me everything…

Vohne smiled and held her closer… Closing his eyes, he spoke softly, story-telling her that long gone period of his life. He spoke late into the night, in the radiating warmth of the dancing flames in the grate.


24 thoughts on “Tell me…

      1. You picture them very well πŸ™‚ I am playing with them a little, and I hope to find a longer, more intricate story for them, to make a real series, or maybe even something more substantial!

        Liked by 1 person

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