and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
She has combed through many minds in her short life; anyone that she came across, she attempted to glean whatever she could from them. Information that most would find useless or meaningless she kept carefully logged, just waiting for her to call upon that particular piece whenever she might need it. Names are the most common. She has hundreds of names stored in different recesses of her mind (how convenient, that Ophanim never thought names – the names she most needed, or at the very least, the names she most wanted), most being that of complete strangers. It was a secret delight of hers to come across someone that had just been a name she had kept locked away, one that had been sitting there patiently waiting for her to use it – like the perfect excuse to wear that dress you kept in your closet just in case.
“Kensa,” the velvet of her voice is almost too familiar with the syllables that leave her tongue, her dark blue eyes alighting with satisfaction that displayed itself as mirth. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” There is a moments pause where her laugh settles in, her slender shoulders rolling in a movement like a shrug before she adds casually, “I mean, not exactly out loud. But Lie isn’t shy about his thoughts.” She doesn’t look to gauge the other woman’s reaction. It wasn’t meant to be a bombshell, or even a prod. If anything, the statement was likely just confusing, since she never bothered to explain her mind reading to anyone; she preferred to let them figure it out. “I live in Loess,” She adds, as somewhat of an afterthought. She had enough problems in her own relationship; she wasn’t looking to plant suspicion in someone else’s.
She is not at all surprised that the stars along her sides are the things that catch Kensa’s eye – much as her own eye is drawn to the gilded markings that reflect in the sun like flakes of gold on the mare’s skin. But for her, the stars were the first thing anyone noticed, and it was difficult not to. They glowed, white and bright against the slate-gray of her skin, and she regards her with a knowing tilt of her head as she says in that quiet, rolling purr, “You can touch them, if you want.” She has stepped closer to her now, slowly breaching that line between ‘polite’ and ‘too close’, before ducking her gaze and adding with a laugh that would have sounded shy if it wasn’t coming from her, “Although, they don’t feel like anything special. They just look pretty, I suppose.”
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted.
( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
