Without realizing it, I skipped a week. Days, like mismatched socks, tend to go missing lately. Can’t even remember what I was busy doing last week. Not writing, for sure. I did take my Wacom tablet out for a leisure stroll and I did produce something nice though. The fruit of my labor will be revealed in due time. For now, enjoy my humble snippet.
A quiet moment for Dalia and Aragon, the two main characters in Notturno.
Dalia looked at him and wondered at the enigma he represented; she touched him, but he didn’t react to her fingers tracing the lines of his arm. She followed the long sinews defining his dark skin and then stopped at the hollow space where the muscles on his neck met the shoulders. His breathing caught for the briefest moment, his eyes fluttered under his closed eyelids, but he didn’t move. She raised her hand and put it on her lap, the urge of lying down with him calling to her. Aragon was the strongest man she had ever seen, but at the moment he was defenseless and she felt the irrational desire to protect him. The thought made her laugh.
On clue, a snort from the corner made her turn. “Where are you, Mo?” The animal snorted a second time, emerging from the darkness. “Come here, baby.” Mo obeyed and walked toward them. “Sit, Mo.” Dalia smiled when Mo bent her trunk-like legs to sit by her master. “Good girl, stay here and protect us if you like.” Mo emitted a sound Dalia didn’t try to decipher.
“Are we all friends now?” Aragon opened one eye and took Dalia’s flying hand. She had been surprised by him not being as asleep as she had thought and almost poked his eyes in response. “I’m glad.”
“Didn’t you need to rest?” She blushed.