Kaisel
One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave
One foot in the grave
The movement of the towel draws his gaze like a siren song. It traces the edges of the flower-shaped barrier, imagining the secret tucked beneath it, its shape, its color, the—no. Fuck. He whips his attention to the opposing side when he catches himself roving over her like some primal beast, hungry for something his icecream cannot provide. Flora’s hot, there’s no denying it, even a friend can appreciate the attractiveness of their friend. What friends should not do, is see each other practically nude. Swimsuits, worn normally, already cut away enough cover to strain that thread, but as always Flora takes it to a new level Kaisel is unprepared for.
He exhales heavily, blinking back at the afterimage of her shapes as he focuses on her voice. He feigns interest in the distant sea, as if watching an imaginary pod of dolphins. The sound of her rearranging beside him has him risking a glance back towards her, and with relief he finds she’s holstered some of her wicked ammunition, for now. Though, the sight of her bare back, a picture normally reserved for the space between sheets, is enough to heat his blood should he stare too long and let thoughts tumble into unwelcome dreams. Perhaps he ought to keep his distance during Longheat if this is her attire, gods grant him strength, or at least sense.
”You are absolutely going to be a lobster in an hour dressed like that,” he mutters, finding that teasing her in turn, and imagining her broiled, helps to snuff out the chokehold of desire. He chooses to focus on the off-color mark against her shoulder, the repaired damage a sobering reminder, one which tugs at his chest in a different manner.
”Funny, I thought I already earned that when I packed up your dragon’s hoard of a house,” he smirks, but doesn’t complain as he offers her the icecream, though he doesn’t relinquish it entirely. At her gesture, he glances up at the sails, squinting against the sun as they flap idly. ”Oh yeah?” a smile as he locks eyes with her, the shine of adventure already written there. ”Now that I am all on board for. Give me the skies over the sea any day of the week.” He pulls the ice cream back to his own mouth, but her breasts beg for his attention once more, though they hardly need to, they’re practically a magnet. He catches himself faster this time and hurriedly bites off a large chunk of icecream, tossing the cold back and forth in his mouth, a welcome distraction. ”There’s no lack of good views any of the times I’ve been with you,” he agrees without intention for anything other than the sprawl of gorgeous Torchline she’s exposed him to. ”Can you…drive it well?” he considers after a beat, skeptical, as he offers her another chance at the sorbet.
He exhales heavily, blinking back at the afterimage of her shapes as he focuses on her voice. He feigns interest in the distant sea, as if watching an imaginary pod of dolphins. The sound of her rearranging beside him has him risking a glance back towards her, and with relief he finds she’s holstered some of her wicked ammunition, for now. Though, the sight of her bare back, a picture normally reserved for the space between sheets, is enough to heat his blood should he stare too long and let thoughts tumble into unwelcome dreams. Perhaps he ought to keep his distance during Longheat if this is her attire, gods grant him strength, or at least sense.
”You are absolutely going to be a lobster in an hour dressed like that,” he mutters, finding that teasing her in turn, and imagining her broiled, helps to snuff out the chokehold of desire. He chooses to focus on the off-color mark against her shoulder, the repaired damage a sobering reminder, one which tugs at his chest in a different manner.
”Funny, I thought I already earned that when I packed up your dragon’s hoard of a house,” he smirks, but doesn’t complain as he offers her the icecream, though he doesn’t relinquish it entirely. At her gesture, he glances up at the sails, squinting against the sun as they flap idly. ”Oh yeah?” a smile as he locks eyes with her, the shine of adventure already written there. ”Now that I am all on board for. Give me the skies over the sea any day of the week.” He pulls the ice cream back to his own mouth, but her breasts beg for his attention once more, though they hardly need to, they’re practically a magnet. He catches himself faster this time and hurriedly bites off a large chunk of icecream, tossing the cold back and forth in his mouth, a welcome distraction. ”There’s no lack of good views any of the times I’ve been with you,” he agrees without intention for anything other than the sprawl of gorgeous Torchline she’s exposed him to. ”Can you…drive it well?” he considers after a beat, skeptical, as he offers her another chance at the sorbet.
It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor
It's just your shadow on the floor
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
