“My face in thine eyes, thine in mine appears. And true plain hearts do in the faces rests. Where can we find two better hemispheres without sharp North, without declining West? Whatever dies was not mixed equally. If our two loves be one and thou and I love so alike that none can slacken, none can die.”
—Isolde
ben bu filmi izlemekte cok gec kalmisim .
(Source: leyliserair)
AU - Tristan and Isolde, marriage. For longjackets.
She knows every inch of him, she thinks, as she rests one hand in his and tugs affectionately at his new clothes with the other.
She never consciously submitted the curve of his waist or the fall of his hair or the scar on his shoulder or the quirk of his eyebrow to her memory, but somewhere in between then and now (meeting and marrying) every part of his body has become familiar and every expression decipherable.
Except for this one, this sort of tightening of lips and shuffling of feet, and restlessness of his gaze - eyes jumping over her face and her hair and her long white dress - as Geoffrey reads from an ageing book and a kingdom watches happily on.
(She thinks it might be nerves, as his hand comes to her waist and his lips to her mouth. Or unbearable happiness.)
