you should know, that i'm a ticking time bomb
and you're getting close
He listens to her agreements, smirking slightly when she mentions his shoulders, and he shrugs ever so slightly to that – said tattoo shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug. But the smirk fades when she continues, his hand stilling along her ear where he tucks her hair in behind it. She mentions the beach, here, the lighthouse, when she’d finally given in and it had taken him what felt like forever to get her there.
So he hums lightly, his gaze finding her own that grow angry and sad and soft, and he’s not exactly smiling when he says it but the alcohol has rampaged through his system and his thoughts are fuzzy and his mind a bit more open than usual. “You sort of have.” He half mumbles before she continues, and his eyes grow a bit softer, far more watchful as she tells him that he’s all she wants. He’s not sure if it helps or hurts more.
“What if there comes a day where I’m not?” A quiet question. “I ruin things, pretty frequently. What if one day it becomes too much and you just don’t find it appealing anymore?” His head cocks to the side, shifting his legs a small amount to better fit her in his lap. “Would you still want to work it out or cut it off before it gets worse?” His own gaze searches her own, the hand at her back drawing lazy lines along the skin through the fabric.
So he hums lightly, his gaze finding her own that grow angry and sad and soft, and he’s not exactly smiling when he says it but the alcohol has rampaged through his system and his thoughts are fuzzy and his mind a bit more open than usual. “You sort of have.” He half mumbles before she continues, and his eyes grow a bit softer, far more watchful as she tells him that he’s all she wants. He’s not sure if it helps or hurts more.
“What if there comes a day where I’m not?” A quiet question. “I ruin things, pretty frequently. What if one day it becomes too much and you just don’t find it appealing anymore?” His head cocks to the side, shifting his legs a small amount to better fit her in his lap. “Would you still want to work it out or cut it off before it gets worse?” His own gaze searches her own, the hand at her back drawing lazy lines along the skin through the fabric.
so better watch your step, because i'm about to blow
and where the pieces land i guess we'll never know
SuNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
