fairly certain it wasn’t the same one he’d been in earlier, but one gothic turret looked more or less like the next, so he couldn’t be sure.
What he did know was that he had to release Lydia’s hand. Though the creature was no longer a threat, other dangers could be lurking close by. With emotion flowing through them, Chuck and Lydia may as well have been beacons shining into the darkness.
Part of him, however, didn’t want to sever that connection. He felt as if eons had passed while he searched for her, as if he’d truly never been whole until their energies had merged. Releasing her hand would be akin to ripping some vital part out of his essence when all he wanted was to bask in the radiance of their union.
The area of a triangle is one half base times height…
Lydia squeezed his hand and moved closer as Chuck closed his eyes. Basic math had proved powerless against the emotions she invoked, so he mentally went through the parts of the translocation equation he actually understood and forced himself to tackle—yet again—those that he didn’t.
“Damn it, Chuck, I can’t do this on my own. You’ve got to give me something to work with, buddy. Get your shit together or I swear to God I’m pulling you outta there.”
Chuck relaxed his grip and stepped back, allowing his fingers to slip from her grasp. The moment they no longer touched, the brilliance faded from Lydia’s aura. The joy that had lit her face and eyes evaporated and Chuck watched the light of hope and happiness wink out. Though he still felt residual pulsings of elation, he suspected it was because he had not allowed himself to become trapped here. He realized he was simply a visitor, a transient soul passing through instead of a resident. For his dearest companion, however, it was as if something had been switched off.
Lydia looked like a woman who’d been startled out of a dream. Her eyes were wide and her mouth agape as she spun in circles, taking in the spiraled stairs, flickering torches, and a tapestry so ancient that the images originally depicted on it had faded into obscurity.
Chuck tried not to stare. He’d been in Crossfades where miniature suns shone like fiery pearls in nebulous clouds whose colors defied description; he’d seen stars sparkling in the darkness of space like glitter that had been blown from the cupped hand of God, yet nothing he’d ever witnessed was half as beautiful as the woman standing before him.
With their esoteric link broken, more earthly desires now flittered through his mind. Chuck fought to keep his eyes from lingering on the swells of her breasts and following the gentle curves of her hips. Through longing so intense that he physically ached for her touch, warmth kindled in his stomach. He realized he didn’t just want to bend her over and have his way; he wanted the closeness that would follow the act, the gentle caresses, giggling, and breathless snippets of conversation. He wanted to lay on his side and hold her, to trace constellations from the moles and freckles and whisper secrets he’d never shared with anyone else.
Perhaps Lydia sensed this, for her cheeks suddenly flushed with embarrassment. She covered her breasts with one arm, cupping her other hand over her mound of pubic hair as she turned slightly, glancing at Chuck over her shoulder but avoiding direct eye contact for more than a second at a time.
“I…I don’t understand. How did we…why are…”
She wasn’t ready to create her own clothing from nothingness yet. If she’d been that far along, they wouldn’t have even been having this conversation. Chuck walked to the wall and ripped the tapestry from its frame, releasing a shower of dust and freeing the musty scent of age. Gripping its tattered border in his hands, he snapped it with a flick of his wrist several times, filling the stairwell with dust motes. They swirled lazily in the air as he moved to Lydia and draped the wall-hanging over her shoulders like a
What he did know was that he had to release Lydia’s hand. Though the creature was no longer a threat, other dangers could be lurking close by. With emotion flowing through them, Chuck and Lydia may as well have been beacons shining into the darkness.
Part of him, however, didn’t want to sever that connection. He felt as if eons had passed while he searched for her, as if he’d truly never been whole until their energies had merged. Releasing her hand would be akin to ripping some vital part out of his essence when all he wanted was to bask in the radiance of their union.
The area of a triangle is one half base times height…
Lydia squeezed his hand and moved closer as Chuck closed his eyes. Basic math had proved powerless against the emotions she invoked, so he mentally went through the parts of the translocation equation he actually understood and forced himself to tackle—yet again—those that he didn’t.
“Damn it, Chuck, I can’t do this on my own. You’ve got to give me something to work with, buddy. Get your shit together or I swear to God I’m pulling you outta there.”
Chuck relaxed his grip and stepped back, allowing his fingers to slip from her grasp. The moment they no longer touched, the brilliance faded from Lydia’s aura. The joy that had lit her face and eyes evaporated and Chuck watched the light of hope and happiness wink out. Though he still felt residual pulsings of elation, he suspected it was because he had not allowed himself to become trapped here. He realized he was simply a visitor, a transient soul passing through instead of a resident. For his dearest companion, however, it was as if something had been switched off.
Lydia looked like a woman who’d been startled out of a dream. Her eyes were wide and her mouth agape as she spun in circles, taking in the spiraled stairs, flickering torches, and a tapestry so ancient that the images originally depicted on it had faded into obscurity.
Chuck tried not to stare. He’d been in Crossfades where miniature suns shone like fiery pearls in nebulous clouds whose colors defied description; he’d seen stars sparkling in the darkness of space like glitter that had been blown from the cupped hand of God, yet nothing he’d ever witnessed was half as beautiful as the woman standing before him.
With their esoteric link broken, more earthly desires now flittered through his mind. Chuck fought to keep his eyes from lingering on the swells of her breasts and following the gentle curves of her hips. Through longing so intense that he physically ached for her touch, warmth kindled in his stomach. He realized he didn’t just want to bend her over and have his way; he wanted the closeness that would follow the act, the gentle caresses, giggling, and breathless snippets of conversation. He wanted to lay on his side and hold her, to trace constellations from the moles and freckles and whisper secrets he’d never shared with anyone else.
Perhaps Lydia sensed this, for her cheeks suddenly flushed with embarrassment. She covered her breasts with one arm, cupping her other hand over her mound of pubic hair as she turned slightly, glancing at Chuck over her shoulder but avoiding direct eye contact for more than a second at a time.
“I…I don’t understand. How did we…why are…”
She wasn’t ready to create her own clothing from nothingness yet. If she’d been that far along, they wouldn’t have even been having this conversation. Chuck walked to the wall and ripped the tapestry from its frame, releasing a shower of dust and freeing the musty scent of age. Gripping its tattered border in his hands, he snapped it with a flick of his wrist several times, filling the stairwell with dust motes. They swirled lazily in the air as he moved to Lydia and draped the wall-hanging over her shoulders like a
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