07-25-2018, 03:46 PM
Leilan
Your beauty is beyond compare -
oh, if I could hear but one song from you
I shall hail thee Queen of Birds...
oh, if I could hear but one song from you
I shall hail thee Queen of Birds...
His little trophy wife seems unbothered by his touches, and so he continues with them. He wants her, but, she doesn’t respond in the usual way, she just lets him do everything - well, he hasn’t tried everything yet, of course, but seeing her lack of initiative there is just enough doubt not to try that right now. Instead, he lets himself be distracted by her words. To visit Ischia now or then.
He hums in approval - not entirely trusting his voice, betraying what he feels, but he manages a few words. ”It is lovely.” To himself, he has to admit that he also means her - and wouldn’t it be nice to see her more often, the girl who’s not afraid of touch, who will always be distracted and drawn in by a shimmer of gold (lucky him). Perhaps she’s someting that needs to be saved for later, then. He could do that. Not break her innocence right now. He could definitely do that. The prospect for to see her later is enough; the dreamy girl is a welcome break from reality.
But he can’t let go of her either. For all that she lacks initiative or manners, she also lets him in. It’s a dangerous path, a thin line he just agreed with himself with not to cross. Nevertheless, he traces the lines where white and blue do not mingle, the ones near her spine, but then also the ones lower. He’s testing her, in a way. What makes her shiver, what makes her uneasy. Or if perhaps none of it does, and he could potentially go all the way.
It’s exciting, not allowing himself to do just that; and so he ultimately craves her more. His shallow breaths come rapidly on her skin, wherever he grooms, nibbles, rearranges feathers, or places that one teasing kiss, right between her shoulderblades.
He hums in approval - not entirely trusting his voice, betraying what he feels, but he manages a few words. ”It is lovely.” To himself, he has to admit that he also means her - and wouldn’t it be nice to see her more often, the girl who’s not afraid of touch, who will always be distracted and drawn in by a shimmer of gold (lucky him). Perhaps she’s someting that needs to be saved for later, then. He could do that. Not break her innocence right now. He could definitely do that. The prospect for to see her later is enough; the dreamy girl is a welcome break from reality.
But he can’t let go of her either. For all that she lacks initiative or manners, she also lets him in. It’s a dangerous path, a thin line he just agreed with himself with not to cross. Nevertheless, he traces the lines where white and blue do not mingle, the ones near her spine, but then also the ones lower. He’s testing her, in a way. What makes her shiver, what makes her uneasy. Or if perhaps none of it does, and he could potentially go all the way.
It’s exciting, not allowing himself to do just that; and so he ultimately craves her more. His shallow breaths come rapidly on her skin, wherever he grooms, nibbles, rearranges feathers, or places that one teasing kiss, right between her shoulderblades.
there's something here that doesn't make sense
let's go and poke it with a stick
let's go and poke it with a stick
@[Jenova]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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