Her hoard is radiant; the scalding fragility of the sun and the diamond-hazed mystery of the moon, both cajoling for her reflection.

Her hoard is unyielding; individual pieces that slip and slide, feigning uncertainty, but which nevertheless work as one to smother and surround her, shielding her from the world outside.

Her hoard is gentle; malleable shapes and sounds, a twinkle like laughter, a glimmer like a confession.

Her hoard is beyond time; memories fading into images and sensations, the promises of echoes yet to find their origin. All beneath the skin. All nurturing.

Her hoard is beyond space; an expanse of riches that could bury the world a thousand times over, and yet which has somehow found home in a pair of eyes.

And when those eyes blink, Smolder gets to experience her hoard all over again.

Author's Note

Looking into the eyes of the one you love and seeing in them everything you have ever, or could ever, want or need.