He shrugs a shoulder, sniffs, and pushes himself off the ledge and to his feet. The wind snags his hair, blowing it up into dancing strands. The sky is a light pink and orange beyond his shoulders, stuck in that moment where it could be sunrise or sunset, but it’s beautiful and perfect all the same. He grabs her hips, and his eyes are like the stones again, beneath the running water in her backyard. For a second she is a child; soaked in her Sunday dress, twirling, twirling, twirling as the world moved on and she laughed, cheeks stretching in the sun.
"Anywhere we want." -The Fallout (ch. 49)
(Source: malphoys, via hybridlovelies)