03-08-2022, 01:08 PM
Don't look back, nothing left to see
I can feel you though, wake me from this dreamin
I can feel you though, wake me from this dreamin
He can always tell, that moment when they truly begin to slip into the nectars inviting embrace. It’s always interesting to watch and the experience seems different for everyone. What never changes is how those shoulders will unwind and smiles seem to come unbidden as tongues loosen. He matches her lazy grin with his own and she's right, he does find her quite amusing. For a moment she looks at him and her smile falters. What has she seen? Was she simply lost in the glittering gold along his cheeks, swept away by the patterns as he seems to be with the galaxies that drip and drift down her face? Or maybe she had simply seen to the rotten core of him.
For some reason, that makes him laugh even more. Then she is smiling again and he can’t remember why he had started laughing to begin with.
The curve of her shoulder, the dark lashes and loose grin. He doesn’t want to think of Cheri but the memory slips in anyways, as it always does. That first time she had indulged in what he had to offer when she had found him after his claiming of the wildflowers. Laughing at him, taunting him. Memories of that first kiss flood into the strange dreams he had been having since his return. Ones of her and him, her wicked laugh, that look in her eyes.
He doesn’t want to think of Cheri.
Instead, he lingers close to the pretty stranger. His mouth finding her throat, the dark rumble of pleasure when she returns his touch. Laughter still vibrating against the blend of cobalt-blue across her skin as she speaks of never lying to herself. It’s funny to him because as someone beholden to tell the truth, he often lies to himself. In fact, he’s doing it now. A master of the trade. “I’ll always want danger.” He doesn’t doubt that she thinks she does. However, if she had a penchant for the likes of him (and apparently his friend Crowns)… Then maybe every word she spoke was truth.
He doubts her though. It's nothing against her of course, he doubts most that have the ability to lie.
His smile is a wicked thing as he shifts closer to her, rolling once more on his backside until his face is peering up at hers. The red of his eye constricts and there is a faint click of black scales scattering across his sable hide. Drunk and oblivious, he doesn’t even notice. “Maybe I am.” He purrs, a challenge in those depths of red. “Do you believe me?” He asks her curiously, those pointed ears swiveled towards her as he gazes up at her with that dastardly grin. Was she familiar with the Fae? Did she know he couldn’t lie? His question seems innocent enough except there is a hunger in his gaze. A hunger that's not entirely his own.
For some reason, that makes him laugh even more. Then she is smiling again and he can’t remember why he had started laughing to begin with.
The curve of her shoulder, the dark lashes and loose grin. He doesn’t want to think of Cheri but the memory slips in anyways, as it always does. That first time she had indulged in what he had to offer when she had found him after his claiming of the wildflowers. Laughing at him, taunting him. Memories of that first kiss flood into the strange dreams he had been having since his return. Ones of her and him, her wicked laugh, that look in her eyes.
He doesn’t want to think of Cheri.
Instead, he lingers close to the pretty stranger. His mouth finding her throat, the dark rumble of pleasure when she returns his touch. Laughter still vibrating against the blend of cobalt-blue across her skin as she speaks of never lying to herself. It’s funny to him because as someone beholden to tell the truth, he often lies to himself. In fact, he’s doing it now. A master of the trade. “I’ll always want danger.” He doesn’t doubt that she thinks she does. However, if she had a penchant for the likes of him (and apparently his friend Crowns)… Then maybe every word she spoke was truth.
He doubts her though. It's nothing against her of course, he doubts most that have the ability to lie.
His smile is a wicked thing as he shifts closer to her, rolling once more on his backside until his face is peering up at hers. The red of his eye constricts and there is a faint click of black scales scattering across his sable hide. Drunk and oblivious, he doesn’t even notice. “Maybe I am.” He purrs, a challenge in those depths of red. “Do you believe me?” He asks her curiously, those pointed ears swiveled towards her as he gazes up at her with that dastardly grin. Was she familiar with the Fae? Did she know he couldn’t lie? His question seems innocent enough except there is a hunger in his gaze. A hunger that's not entirely his own.
obscene
@rosemary
![[Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/fTkjKh9Q/Obscene-Pixel.png){kind=tracking}