Wildflowers | Alec Volturi

six

"She was the image of beauty, truly. Nothing has ever compared to her in all my years."

The tapping at her shutters had her jolting from her bed with a strangled sound half-formed in her throat, a hand reached up to her heart so that she could feel the flutter of her panic and fear in her nearly asleep state. 

Then it sounds again and she scrambling from the bed, grabbing an empty basin bowl that she holds carefully in her hand. She considers going to fetch Rodick, using him to scare away whoever had dared come to her window, but she figures that's an incredibly terrible idea. He would overdo something like this, probably demand the poor soul hanged. 

Carefully, she flips the latch and pushes one side open, squinting through the onslaught of pale moonlight at a familiar head of dark hair. 

The bowl hangs loosely at her side, her fear replaced with a pounding of emotion in her chest. 

"Alec! What are you doing here?" she gasps, resting against the ledge, shifting her body so that she was leaning out the window partially, she eagerly reaches for him -- stopping him from going too far away from her grasp. "Are you aware of the time?" 

"It's late. I'm sorry, I wanted to see you. I want to thank you," he whispers, not bothering to try and free himself from the tight grip that she has on his loose sleep shirt. "Father Acker came and spoke to us. He invited us to his next sermon. He truly wants us there." 

"Oh, Alec! Of course, he would. You have just as much right to be there as anyone else does." 

"But it is because of you and your actions that we are permitted to return." 

She beams at him, inching herself closer to him out of the window. The basin makes a soft thud against the wall at the motion. "You will sit upfront with me, then? Your whole family can sit with mine. It will be nice." 

"I'm not sure if that would be appropriate yet, but I hope to be near you soon." 

Warmth burst through her, a giddy joy that she hardly knows how to contain as she uses her hold on his shirt to yank him forward. 

The kiss, because she was not foolish enough to call it anything silly for the sake of propriety, was like a burst of colour behind her eyes, a series of images that flash, showing everything she has ever wanted -- everything that she has ever pictured. 

His mouth was cold, chilled from the night and the winds that whipped at him from the fading storm that had passed through. It did not take long for them to warm as she held him there, both unmoving, both inexperienced and uncertain of if and how they should proceed. 

Slowly, painstakingly slow, she releases her hold of him in a daze, and if there was a single moment that she would think him a witch, it would be now with her thoughts halted and chest squeezing the inability to breathe without holding him to her. 

It was easy to become addicted to such a feeling, to such an intimate gesture, that she wasn't sure she would ever be able to go without. Robyn knew at that moment that her fate was sealed, that she was never going to love anyone other than Alec ever again. 

"You- you just..." he stammers, fingers held to his lips. His cheeks took on a charming pink hue that was barely visible in the poor light but enough for her to fill with a rightful sense of satisfaction. 

If she had her way, then she would have bewitched him just as he has thoroughly done to her.  

"I did and will do so again if you permit me the chance," she says only a little smug. "I'm guided by the moonlight in my heart and it leads me to you."