Flora
"Do they ever." Flora agrees in a low voice, shivering slightly at the memory. Colour dances across her cheeks as she nibbles the inside of her cheek and while it's an entirely foolish and reckless thing to do all things considered, the queen presses her teeth against that little bit of skin that always seems to stick out on the inside of her cheek until a bead of blood appears. Just how sensitive were the butcher's senses when it came to that sort of thing? She presses at it until her tongue tastes of iron, and though her lips only part slightly, the queen carefully marks Asta's s pupils for any sign he could recognize such a small amount of blood from where he was.
Not wanting him to appear at all ruffled when they do exit, though Flora's nails press against the base of his neck they don't stray beneath the collar of his shirt. In the mirror, she imagines the butcher's hands roughly rising along the lace of her gown until it had the skin of his palms singing, only to wrap his large hand around her throat, twisting her head away that he might mark her neck anew. "If you're good." The queen hums, the husky quality of her voice betraying the casual tone she was aiming for, but with his hands on her it was impossible to play it cool when he made her feel so terribly hot.
As the pair emerge, if the shopkeeper is at all surprised to see them do so, nothing in his expression betrays it. (They wouldn't be the first young couple to fuck in one of his changing areas, and so long as his merchandise is all paid for he doesn't really care. Besides, he knows this customer in particular is good for it). With swathes of blue fabrics draped over his arm and an assortment of scale-y material, he smiles expectantly at Asta. "I could..er simply prepare this as I normally would or we could try it on the model first?" His eyes flicker briefly towards Flora, assuming of course that's who the materials had been for.
Ignoring all of this, or pretending to—Flora loved to be surprised after all—the queen steps onto the pedestal once again, twisting this way and that to see every side of herself in the alcove of mirrors. "I think you're absolutely right. What was that you said before? About seeing something you just had to have?" Her blue eyes darken slightly as her lips twist into a crooked smile, her gaze pointedly upon him.
Not wanting him to appear at all ruffled when they do exit, though Flora's nails press against the base of his neck they don't stray beneath the collar of his shirt. In the mirror, she imagines the butcher's hands roughly rising along the lace of her gown until it had the skin of his palms singing, only to wrap his large hand around her throat, twisting her head away that he might mark her neck anew. "If you're good." The queen hums, the husky quality of her voice betraying the casual tone she was aiming for, but with his hands on her it was impossible to play it cool when he made her feel so terribly hot.
As the pair emerge, if the shopkeeper is at all surprised to see them do so, nothing in his expression betrays it. (They wouldn't be the first young couple to fuck in one of his changing areas, and so long as his merchandise is all paid for he doesn't really care. Besides, he knows this customer in particular is good for it). With swathes of blue fabrics draped over his arm and an assortment of scale-y material, he smiles expectantly at Asta. "I could..er simply prepare this as I normally would or we could try it on the model first?" His eyes flicker briefly towards Flora, assuming of course that's who the materials had been for.
Ignoring all of this, or pretending to—Flora loved to be surprised after all—the queen steps onto the pedestal once again, twisting this way and that to see every side of herself in the alcove of mirrors. "I think you're absolutely right. What was that you said before? About seeing something you just had to have?" Her blue eyes darken slightly as her lips twist into a crooked smile, her gaze pointedly upon him.
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Code stolen from Queen Sky
