dahlia
You can't buy this fineness
There's precious little hidden in Dahlia's expression, especially when Dorian speaks of seizing the right moments. Where he is a walking exercise in restraint and control, she is the chaos that orbits his star, the blazing tail to his comet. "It had occurred to me," she agrees, though her hand reaches out quite of its own accord - at least how it feels - and presses in a slow, indulgent starburst against his chest, as if to sample the rich material of his shirt.
It's so much more than that of course - to feel the warmth and weight of his physical presence is almost giddying, especially how far apart they've been in the past few days. It's the longest Dahlia has been on her own, truly on her own, and it's an experience that has been simultaneously terrifying and wondrous. "My experience of the male form in this world thus far has been very soft," she admits. "I have no doubt that the Carpenter boy will be just as perfectly sweet as the Flood."
And that is not conducive to the skills I'd like to test, she seems to imply.
It's so much more than that of course - to feel the warmth and weight of his physical presence is almost giddying, especially how far apart they've been in the past few days. It's the longest Dahlia has been on her own, truly on her own, and it's an experience that has been simultaneously terrifying and wondrous. "My experience of the male form in this world thus far has been very soft," she admits. "I have no doubt that the Carpenter boy will be just as perfectly sweet as the Flood."
And that is not conducive to the skills I'd like to test, she seems to imply.
Let me see the heat get to it
