// i am heaven sent, don't you dare forget —
He’s more than prepared to let Harper take as long as he would like when it came to getting used to the room and everything – but what he doesn’t expect is that in the face of his excitement to find such… Sorrow. It’s a bit of a buzzkill, given what he’d anticipated at the bar, but the courtesan is adaptable, and he peers at the faint reflection of Harper in the window when he stands behind him and he asks his question, spying the difficulty it sparks to bring it up.
Sex doesn’t have to be the only thing they do, or even anything at all. If Harper wanted to pretend he was whomever when calling him by that little moniker, Thorn would do it, if it had a chance of helping that sad look on his handsome face.
So he turns, when he sees the faint outline of him sit on the bed, and he steps away from the window, running a hand through his hair, tousling the long strands there, flashing him a softer smile whether Harper sees it or doesn’t. And he pauses, just in front of the Stalwart, like the city and the penthouse was made for him despite it being his first time ever being within one, unsure of just what was expected or commonplace for a space like this, he kneels between Harper’s knees on the floor beside the bed that he sits at, and lets his seafoam gaze peer up at the Stalwart with a quiet question simmering in them, one he vocalizes a bit smoother than his gaze seems to question. “What would you like me to do for you, Bluejay?” He asks softly, a hint of tenderness in the tone when he says it.
Sex doesn’t have to be the only thing they do, or even anything at all. If Harper wanted to pretend he was whomever when calling him by that little moniker, Thorn would do it, if it had a chance of helping that sad look on his handsome face.
So he turns, when he sees the faint outline of him sit on the bed, and he steps away from the window, running a hand through his hair, tousling the long strands there, flashing him a softer smile whether Harper sees it or doesn’t. And he pauses, just in front of the Stalwart, like the city and the penthouse was made for him despite it being his first time ever being within one, unsure of just what was expected or commonplace for a space like this, he kneels between Harper’s knees on the floor beside the bed that he sits at, and lets his seafoam gaze peer up at the Stalwart with a quiet question simmering in them, one he vocalizes a bit smoother than his gaze seems to question. “What would you like me to do for you, Bluejay?” He asks softly, a hint of tenderness in the tone when he says it.
thorn
— i am all you've ever wanted,
what all the other boys all promised //
what all the other boys all promised //
