it's fine to fake it 'till you make it
The starlight that swept across the shrine’s marble edges bent ever so slightly—like a bow pulled taut—before releasing Safrin into existence with a shimmer of twilight and scent of crushed jasmine. She emerged quietly, almost intimately, as if answering a secret rendezvous rather than a prayer. The silken folds of her dark, star-speckled gown whispered along the floor as she approached, barefoot, graceful, her gaze already fixed on the captain kneeling before her.
Her eyes gleamed with immediate pleasure at the sight—and scent—of what he'd prepared. "Jack," Safrin purred, stepping close enough that the starlight caught and danced along her hair like falling comets. "You never fail to find new ways to tempt me." There was a low laugh in her voice as she knelt opposite him, her gown pooling like a second night sky between them.
Without hesitation, she plucked one of the offered glasses, turning it slowly between her fingers to admire the swirling galaxy of colours and glitter suspended within. "A Galaxy Slam," she mused, the name clearly amusing her as she lifted the glass in a silent, appreciative toast before taking a slow, deliberate sip. Her lashes fluttered as the flavours burst across her tongue, and the smile that curved her mouth was brighter than the stars burning overhead. "You spoil me," she murmured, setting the glass down with a soft click that echoed faintly in the quiet night. Her attention returned fully to Jack, and with a slow, lazy tilt of her head, she extended a hand toward him, palm up, fingers curling slightly in invitation for him to place his own within that she might brand him with the fruits of his labour.
Her eyes gleamed with immediate pleasure at the sight—and scent—of what he'd prepared. "Jack," Safrin purred, stepping close enough that the starlight caught and danced along her hair like falling comets. "You never fail to find new ways to tempt me." There was a low laugh in her voice as she knelt opposite him, her gown pooling like a second night sky between them.
Without hesitation, she plucked one of the offered glasses, turning it slowly between her fingers to admire the swirling galaxy of colours and glitter suspended within. "A Galaxy Slam," she mused, the name clearly amusing her as she lifted the glass in a silent, appreciative toast before taking a slow, deliberate sip. Her lashes fluttered as the flavours burst across her tongue, and the smile that curved her mouth was brighter than the stars burning overhead. "You spoil me," she murmured, setting the glass down with a soft click that echoed faintly in the quiet night. Her attention returned fully to Jack, and with a slow, lazy tilt of her head, she extended a hand toward him, palm up, fingers curling slightly in invitation for him to place his own within that she might brand him with the fruits of his labour.
'till you do. 'till it's true.
