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  • Beqanna

    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]  just let me hold you like a hostage;
    #3

    and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.

    His thoughts invade her own, and she tears her blue eyes away from the water to find the rich brown of his.

    If he caught her off guard it doesn’t show, with a practiced simper unfurling across her lips as her slender body angles towards his. It never takes much to distract herself from her true worries and insecurities, and maybe it’s because she is always looking for such an escape. She is not particular, and almost immediately she decides that he is a suitable enough diversion to keep from feeling everything she was feeling.

    She would rather lose herself in her relatively harmless games than be forced to look inside herself and face her flaws and misery.

    The stars were always the first thing they noticed, and she doesn’t mind. She can hardly blame them, for it was difficult to ignore the glowing dapples spread out in the shape of Scorpius, or the way the handle of the ladle followed the arch of her neck before scooping into her slender shoulder. She would get their attention one way or another, but it was helpful to have something that did the hard work for her. “Born this way. Some of us are just lucky, I guess,” and she says it in a way that is so innocent that it becomes abundantly clear that she is anything but.

    She slips towards him, not quite eliminating the space between them entirely, but drawing close enough that she can smell the scent of pine and mountains and the wild on his skin. He is handsome — in a rugged and feral sort of way, and everything about him is so completely opposite from Ophanim (a comparison that she was always subconsciously makes; no one ever measures up, but it doesn’t stop her from entertaining herself anyway). She regards him curiously with her navy colored eyes, artfully combing through his thoughts. He looks at her, but it is a studious stare, not an admiring one,  and she cannot help but ask with a laugh and a coquettish tip of her shapely head, “Are you always so difficult to impress?”

    starsin

    it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted.
    ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )

    Reply


    Messages In This Thread
    just let me hold you like a hostage; - by Starsin - 06-16-2019, 10:08 PM
    RE: just let me hold you like a hostage; - by Starsin - 06-25-2019, 11:28 PM



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