if you try and chase the sun you're never gonna catch it
Vesper’s smile curls slow and deliberate, as if her words had been written directly into the hunger curling low in his spine. The reflection flickers behind her like a second heartbeat—one they both share now, fast and pulsing beneath their skin. "Then let’s give her something to race for," he murmurs, voice thick with smoke and velvet, his breath a warm whisper against her jaw.
His hands don’t hurry. They slide up from her thighs, over the curve of her hips, fingers curling just under the hem of her shirt as if asking rather than demanding—though the fire in his eyes says the answer’s already known. He’s close enough that she can feel the press of his body against hers, hard lines framed in shadow and starlight, every breath between them charged.
The mirror catches all of it now: her smirk, his hands, the slow shift of bodies aligning. His shadows slip forward as if they have a will of their own—curling up her calves, brushing beneath the hem of her clothes, teasing like phantom fingertips drawn from desire itself. They don’t hold her, not yet. But they certainly do play.
"Gods, look at you," he murmurs into her skin, voice low and threading heat where his mouth finds her throat, trailing fire just below her jaw. His hands flex, guiding her hips back into the ivy just enough to feel the contrast—soft leaves, cool stone, her own reflection catching every slow, dark thrill of the moment.
His hands don’t hurry. They slide up from her thighs, over the curve of her hips, fingers curling just under the hem of her shirt as if asking rather than demanding—though the fire in his eyes says the answer’s already known. He’s close enough that she can feel the press of his body against hers, hard lines framed in shadow and starlight, every breath between them charged.
The mirror catches all of it now: her smirk, his hands, the slow shift of bodies aligning. His shadows slip forward as if they have a will of their own—curling up her calves, brushing beneath the hem of her clothes, teasing like phantom fingertips drawn from desire itself. They don’t hold her, not yet. But they certainly do play.
"Gods, look at you," he murmurs into her skin, voice low and threading heat where his mouth finds her throat, trailing fire just below her jaw. His hands flex, guiding her hips back into the ivy just enough to feel the contrast—soft leaves, cool stone, her own reflection catching every slow, dark thrill of the moment.
And now it's turning out to be the worst of my bad habits
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
