Spring Cleaning by Vonagh

((Vonagh to Rylyrr))

When you shy away from his suggestion to put the brown mold on your tallywacker, Vonagh realizes you are probably right, it was a stupid idea. Instead, he returns the slime to the freezebox and takes out a bag of frozen snails, and puts them in the gap in your armor instead. Even though you want him to return to the bed with you, he insists that you need to rest, and it wouldn’t be long because he would wake you in an hour.

Kneeling by your head, he quietly shifts all of the portraits out from under his bed. Some of them weren’t of her, but they were still personal. Those he places aside while sifting through the images of the AelRenmah princess. You feared for his heart, he felt the sting of your fear in his jostled joints and aching skin. Fury was an understatement. Still, you had to have found the worst of the images, with her naked and him with his hands over her breasts. It wasn’t meant to be as bad as you had taken it. Actually, he felt like it was more of a symbol of what he meant to her – hiding her modesty and yet revealing her shame. As if he could mean something like that to a woman.

Every one of the drawings goes in the chest, even the ones where he just explored the waves of her hair and the curve of her lips. Details you would assume were further signs of his infatuation, he was sure. And maybe you had a point. Maybe she had already spun her spell on him, and it was why he was powerless to stop seeing her. Maybe it was why, even after he promised to not go, and he witnessed your rage, did he still wish it could happen.

Lifting the final page, the one he had drawn first and therefore it was on the bottom, he stares into her beautiful eyes. Even rendered in black and white, he admired their beauty, though his sketch paled by the intense reality. He had only seen their color that one time, but it burned into him like coldfire. He doubted he could ever capture their true passion, so it was good that he drew her like he saw her from the ethereal grayness.

He wished it was different, that he could find a way to continue to see her. And as his fingers trailed over the curve of her jaw, he had an idea. His hopes of granting wishes were smashed by the Queen, but maybe there was a trick to it. True, he had wished harder than anything in his life for troops and they didn’t appear, but maybe it had to do with intention. Maybe he could wish that they never be caught, or that Malachi would never see him and that Rylyrr never see her.

His eyes lift from the drawing to the sleeping face of his lover. He wasn’t sure he could ever do something like that to Rylyrr. But Malachi? The powerful winged brat could forever remain unaware of his presence. He didn’t see anything wrong with trying. If it worked, great. If it didn’t, what did it matter trying?

Closing his eyes, he folds the drawing to his chest and he wishes … deeply … that Malachi, lover of Jexibell AelRenmah, from this point onward in time, will never be able to see him.

Beyond that, Vonagh reasoned, it would be too dangerous. One never knew with wishes, they always seemed to backfire.

Opening his eyes, he glances around at his room. Nothing had changed. As far as he knew, nothing had happened. Shaking his head at his absurd notion, he quickly packs the rest of the drawings into the crate; he shuts it and casts a Wizard Lock on the latch.

Just in time – for there is a knock on the door.

Tues, Apr 4th – 11:44PM