Hotaru
I know there are angels singing somewhere
I hope they sing for us
The smoke seems to seep through her and come straight back through her throat on the tune of sighs, head tilted obligingly further back to contort into whatever shape Frey deems satisfactory. It's a slow and sensual start, but such were the necessities of conversation. I hope they sing for us
The turn of events is unexpected, though the thrust from behind her makes her jolt with a wanton whine, thighs spreading what little more they can between Frey's own to tilt her hips towards the herald's questing hand. Not that it makes it any easier to think, though it certainly ensures her response is brimming with honesty.
"I only care that I am the only one to have his heart," she decrees, for it's a treasure like gold that would see all vessels wrecked within his waters or upon her shores should they try to pry it from her fingers. Turning her head in vain desire to see Frey, she instead lays her lips against the herald's throat, letting her words vibrate through such thin and sensitive spaces. "I can serve you in many ways that neither of us would find restrictive. I've accepted it of him - he would surely accept it of me." She has always been certain of her choice in herald, and already the couple are planning to indulge a brothel client between the two of them for the creation of Frey's shrine. She has no reason to doubt her own certainty in Sunjata's support. "I have always wished to be yours. However you will have me." It's spoken on a sweet moan as Frey's fingers explore, malleable in a way so few ever get to see.
For our bruised mouths are an act of resistance
and our singing hearts, together, make a beautiful prayer
and our singing hearts, together, make a beautiful prayer
