!Ykpfge10hU 02/14/11(Mon)22:46 No.13906171|
>Continued from >>13906025
Lost beamed at him. Geist was such a romantic. Holding the wine glass in both hands, she extended her third hand, her mind-hand, towards the love of her life.
Lost knelt on the shimmering, roiling surface of the barrier between Geist’s conscious and subconscious. She had moved quickly to this spot, and had not looked too deeply into the thought that swirled around her. She felt his affection play over her like a warm dervish, playfully tousling her hair. She reached into her self, long fingers slipping into her ribcage, right below her breasts, and grasping around something. Using both her hands, she gently pulled out a golden thought-pane. It glowed and shimmered, the light putting her pretty features in stark contrast. She looked down at it with a loving material smile before pushing it through the barrier. Slowly the thought drifted down through the under-thought, fading until only a glimmer, then nothing.
Suddenly a thought bloomed in Geist’s mind. It started as a faint light, a distant glow like that of a star. As it approached, a warmth alighted on Geist’s skin, a warm glow that seemed to drive all the cold of worry and problems away. Even before the light got closer, Geist was sure what it was, who it was—there was no room for uncertainty. It flew towards him, seeming to slow down as it approached. A glowing figure with gauzy bands of fabric streaming about her, seeming to coincidentally form behind her into the suggestion of two massive angel wings, her face was the same face he had seen looking over at him across the bed, the high forehead, the slightly thin but inviting lips curled in a brilliant smile, the cheekbones and chin that make her pretty, almost beautiful. Except she was beautiful. Her eyes shown with a love he could feel in his flux, so strong that his heart felt like it would burst.