[private] and you're headed for the gallows, sin around your throat; draco

[draco]

draco

hitch a ride on my violence

“You love it when I’m dramatic,” Draco quips back, offering the same nonchalant smile she delivered him. It was true, it wasn’t quite as bad as he made it sound; but it was still dirty, and he hated having to take the time to preen and wash the shine of his scales. When he was growing up, he hated his father for plopping this part of his family here, in the dustbowl; but now, he’s come to appreciate it, even if he still thinks his father pathetic for finding beauty in such barren canyons.

“I don’t know but I think they call themselves the Popsicle Pirates over there,” Draco muses, eyes drifting lazily over their surroundings. He leans casually into Desire’s relaxed touch, finding relief he’ll never admit to in her company. He rolls those lazy eyes slowly back to the illusionist when she speaks again, mock disdain in his gaze.

“I thought you’d never ask, bestie,” the demon answers, pulling his neck away from her pinching teeth. “Dove is . . . Actually, I don’t know.” He shrugs then, biting back that still lingering guilt. “I need to find her. I’ve been gone awhile. But not for no good reason,” Draco adds quickly, a renewed grin flashing across his face.

Clearing his throat, Draco pulls away and does a dramatic circle. “Why haven’t you commented on my new haircut yet?” he asks, feigning offense. “And look at this.” Suddenly, a pebble flies up and smacks Desire in the shoulder.

 @Desire let the rock wars begin!!!!