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08-14-2006, 10:17 PM
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#34 |
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Elf Lord
Join Date: Dec 2005
Location: In a field of paper flowers
Posts: 733
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Willow let herself lean on Aragorn, pressing her face again his chest. Just a moment of weakness. She was entitled.
"The servant of something older and fouler than we have ever come again," Willow told Colomir weakly. "And we'd best start moving."
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Real love is a mixture of pleasure, pain and a soul-deep happiness that blasts any complaints out of the water. When you're in love, his voice makes you smile and his laughter warms your heart. And when he weeps, you feel yourself dying in each fallen tear. Love is madness of the very best sort. |
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