Elsewhere from the deep in the wild, towards the midnight oak moon in the night sky, tiny specks of frosty snow saturates.
Rhett has eventually leisured down the motorbike, and Neva's alluring hair—flowing with the rhythm of the breeze.
Safe out of distance from Raka's outstretch, Rhett finally breathes steadily, in solace.
The cold winter air numbing muscles, but Rhett smiles from the warmth Neva provides—adhered to his frame.
The silent night at the end days of the year—Neva peers at the feathery flutterings of the snowflakes. Her head laid on his back, she wonders of the swirling future ahead.
For all that she blinks her heart serene.
For the reason; she has already been made sole with the soul of the lover—she rides the current of life with.
The ivory layered pine trees, and the twinkling Christmas lights on the streets, dazzles in the darkness, as they break free—far from where their cozy home should be.
Hushed her head clear, she decides she could leave all behind. Bare and naked, she would saunter Rhett by her side.
The road departs, the time rushing by, Rhett pulls up on the outskirts of the town. Neva seperates herself in sorrow from the lack of his heat. Climbing down, taking off the helmet, she hands it to him—a cozy vintage Inn reflecting in her eyes.
"You must be cold." Rhett before her grabs both of her hands, rubbing them—kissing her knuckles.
"We're staying the night here?" Neva tilts her head, gazing at the Inn again.
"Just for tonight." He smiles. Neva peers up at him, reaching at his head—havinv him bow for her, she strokes away the shroud of snow off his misty hair.
Rhett has his heart mellowed by her affection, his tender eyes threaded to her round almond ones.
"Let's warm you up inside.'' He says.
Neva smiles, she nods at him in response. Mirroring her smile he leans in, placing a kiss on her forehead.
Hands entangled, he leads to the entrance of the Inn.
Walking through the door, the ting sound of bells on the entryway resonates. The manager glances their way, a welcoming smile on his face.
Neva exhales a smoky breath, glancing around the comfortable hall, the heat surging through her. While Rhett speaks with the manager, acquiring a key for a space to rest.
"Let's go." He grabs her hand, coursing through the dim-lit hall.
Passing shut doors, on the end of the hallway was their destined room. Unlocking the door, he pushes it open.
Stepping inside, Neva grins at the pleasant appearance of the room.
A warm bed at the center, with white Victorian ruffle sheets and blankets. The presence of the decors in countrycore aesthetics.
The golden gleams, accompanied with the aureate lanterns—luminating the comfortable space, pleased greatly Neva's eyes. Small and tidy, so cozy.
She slides off the damped jacket and places on the coat hanger wooden stand by the entrance.
As she saunters to the bed, Rhett follows her behind, suddenly ceasing her wrist, crashing her in his embrace—taking Neva aback.
His arms wrapped around her waist, he buries his face in the crook of her neck.
"I should have not left you. It's all my fault." Rhett mumbles, his voice muffled.
Neva lightly smiles, his frenzily beating heart, echoing through her back.
Leaning in to his warmth, she caresses his arms holding her.
"It's not your fault Rhett." She murmers softly.
"I'm so sorry." He nuzzles his nose on her skin—breathing in her sweet scent. His arms tightened around her; he's scared, if she fades.
"Don't be, I'm safe here with you." She assures, earning a deep hum from him—the vibrations ticklishly rushing into her pores.
Neva sighs, "You're rigid from cold." Turning around—she cups his freezing cheeks.
"You're not to blame for anything. And thank you so much for being here." Smiling at his pouting features she pecks his nose.
"Go take a warm bath hmm?" Neva suggests, scanning his face, anxious of his paled complexion.
"Let's bath together." He declares. Neva's eyes widens. "Absolutely no!"
He frowns, hurt by her brutal exclaimation. "Why not?"
"Because we are not married yet!" Neva, immediately makes a sour face, cursing her own choice of words.
"Then let's get married tomorrow." He presents, suddenly sparked, determined to make her his spiritually, emotionally, physically, lawfully within the forthcoming dawn.
Neva holds his hands firmly.
"Rhett, nothing can harm us." She looks into his eyes, her honeyed ones solacing him.
She pulls him towards her, embracing him, placing her head on his chest—she rubs soothingly his back.
"You are my beloved. You are all mine Neva." He phrases, arms around her, burying, nuzzling his0 face on the crook of her neck.
Neva soundlessly comforts him, wishing all the scenes that unveiled were, nothing but a bad distant dream.
"Angel you can bath first." He sadly remarks.
Neva parts from him, his pouty, fallen face making her chuckle.
"I'm cold, but you are frozen." Neva says, rubbing his nose with her own.
She offers him a sweet smile, taking his hand, she drags him towards the shower door.
"Alright alright, I'll be done soon." Pecking one more time her pinkish lips—he hurries inside.
Neva giggles at him; her worries slipping away, for a little while.