Hotaru
Roses are red and I wish I could see them bloom
But all I see are orange hues
While nicknames in a language you don't know are far from a surprise, it's still fresh and untested on her tongue, though the mimicry of the accentuated vowels is perfect - no less than Hotaru would allow. It still provides a rush the moment she says it, and all the more melting warmth when he expresses his appreciation, translated into gentle touches against his wing and the way she melts into his kiss and the touch of his fingertips against her spine and shoulders. "I'm sure it will sound all the better when I cry it out instead," she simpers, a purr vibrating in her chest and along her tongue in both literal and metaphorical ways. But all I see are orange hues
The temptation he offers is a poisoned apple in his palm, delectable and devastating, and it makes her sigh a dramatic sound and drop her head onto his shoulder as if needing consolation - though she trails lazy kisses up the side of his neck instead. "Oh, don't promise me such things. If I had my way, we wouldn't leave for the rest of the season." Her nails elongate just slightly, trailing under the curve of the bone of his wing with the back of one, feline possession too close to the surface. Why she should have to share him with anyone but these shadowy half-lives created from their memories? Though if she was ever in need of the perfect thing to stoke the heat back into her veins, it's the idea of staking her claim here and now, even if there's nobody present to really see it. It makes her hips twitch and her thighs squeeze slightly around Sunjata's own, the restlessness returning slow and sweet.
Now you’re stuck in my head and I wish I could sing the blues
But all I hear are orange tunes, and all I do is think of you
But all I hear are orange tunes, and all I do is think of you
