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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [private]  sabra;
    #14
    Oh, she wanted to be cold. She wanted to be unfeeling and harsh and distant. She almost succeeded. But the way he said her name. What was she supposed to do, when he put so much emotion into those two syllables. She returns his smile as she pulls back again, laughing at his quip despite herself. 

    "Is that what I am, just a pretty face?" She asked, arching a delicate brow.  She wasn't sure she wanted the answer to that. They were supposed to be ending the conversation. Moving on with their lives, content in knowing there was no bad blood between them. Why was she looking for reasons to keep talking? And then he says her name again. That low, sexy voice that makes her think that maybe he actually cares. How pathetic was that. 

    She was a queen and a lady and needed no one's approval. But she wanted his. She wanted his approval and his time and... The scent of bitter smoke interrupted her thoughts. He was there again, filling her with his presence. Drawing a burning line down her neck and shoulder, thawing her as quickly as she'd frozen. They could be the only two horses in existence for all she cares. She wanted to be strong; he made her weak at the knees. His head is against her shoulder, and she lays hers over his neck. There against the solidity of him, she feels safe. There was an irony in that. 

    Her head moved slowly against his neck, a nod of affirmation when he asked her to visit. "Of course I will. I told you, I expect a rematch at some point." She placed her teeth lightly against a patch of dark skin, applying the barest pressure to the ropes of muscle there. Breath hot against his skin, a kiss followed the feather light bite. "Next time I'll go easy on you. I might even let you win." She grinned saucily as she pulled back once more, but not very far. Parting was such sweet sorrow, but that hello again... a girl could get addicted to his kind of hellos. 

    @[Castile]
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    Messages In This Thread
    sabra; - by Castile - 03-14-2018, 12:46 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Sabra - 03-14-2018, 04:23 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Castile - 03-15-2018, 08:42 AM
    RE: sabra; - by Sabra - 03-19-2018, 12:43 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Castile - 03-19-2018, 02:08 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Sabra - 03-19-2018, 04:06 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Castile - 03-20-2018, 06:31 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Sabra - 03-20-2018, 09:37 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Castile - 03-22-2018, 01:41 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Sabra - 03-22-2018, 03:13 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Castile - 03-28-2018, 01:53 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Sabra - 03-28-2018, 06:16 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Castile - 03-29-2018, 02:32 PM
    RE: sabra; - by Sabra - 03-29-2018, 04:15 PM



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