flora
Flora's aqua eyes are utterly captivated by the soldier's grip on the peach, her eyes willing the pads of his fingers to brush over the fuzz with just enough pressure to cause droplets of golden juice to bloom from the parted skin. It's a metaphor that the girl is willing to life with every fibre of her being, and that she knows intimately, as it were, just how exacting Koa's fingers could be, her imagination is able to easily replace the peach with the swell of her thigh or breast with enough detail to have her breath catching in her throat and heat blooming between her legs.
Lips parting but unable to do more than exhale stiffly as the soldier moves behind her, Flora both straightens, tenses, and melts, in all the ways she thinks (hopes) he'll find the most attractive; her shoulders soften, her obliques tighten, and her rib cage rises. Shivering with a physical eagerness that belies the affectation of calm that she's trying very hard to maintain, goosebumps erupt in the wake of Koa's fingers as he relieves the strings from the Doubletake's hand. Letting her eyes fall closed, the words send a current of electricity down her spine, and suddenly it feels as though each and every cell of her body is reaching out for Koa, as if the baby-fine hairs on her body might suddenly form fingers with which to drag him closer by.
Too breathless by the nearness of him to properly sass the soldier the way she otherwise might, Flora lets her fingertips trickle with feather-soft lightness up the arm holding the strings of her top, rising only so that she could plunge them with sudden pressure against his scalp. At the same time, her body stretches upward slightly if only to emphasize the lean length of her torso as she arches and leans back against him, her cheek raised and pressed against his lips.
There's no window for him to rush out of this time, and maybe if she's good enough, if she's clever enough, he'll stay this time.
"Touch me." The words are meant to be a sultry command, but there's no denying the pleading edge to her voice as she reaches for his other hand to guide it against her breast that she might finally experience what the peach had.
Lips parting but unable to do more than exhale stiffly as the soldier moves behind her, Flora both straightens, tenses, and melts, in all the ways she thinks (hopes) he'll find the most attractive; her shoulders soften, her obliques tighten, and her rib cage rises. Shivering with a physical eagerness that belies the affectation of calm that she's trying very hard to maintain, goosebumps erupt in the wake of Koa's fingers as he relieves the strings from the Doubletake's hand. Letting her eyes fall closed, the words send a current of electricity down her spine, and suddenly it feels as though each and every cell of her body is reaching out for Koa, as if the baby-fine hairs on her body might suddenly form fingers with which to drag him closer by.
Too breathless by the nearness of him to properly sass the soldier the way she otherwise might, Flora lets her fingertips trickle with feather-soft lightness up the arm holding the strings of her top, rising only so that she could plunge them with sudden pressure against his scalp. At the same time, her body stretches upward slightly if only to emphasize the lean length of her torso as she arches and leans back against him, her cheek raised and pressed against his lips.
There's no window for him to rush out of this time, and maybe if she's good enough, if she's clever enough, he'll stay this time.
"Touch me." The words are meant to be a sultry command, but there's no denying the pleading edge to her voice as she reaches for his other hand to guide it against her breast that she might finally experience what the peach had.
Just walk away, don't make me say
The only words I owe you: I told you so, I told you so
The only words I owe you: I told you so, I told you so
