VESPER
The threat makes him chuckle—a low, knowing sound that slips like smoke between them as the firelight flickers in her hand. "Aw, but you like my hair," he says, dragging a hand through it for emphasis, damp curls sticking to his fingers like ash and sin. "Unless last time you were really were tryin' to tug it out when you had your fingers runnin'' through it." His voice is still lazy, still lined with humour, but there’s a heat to it now that has nothing to do with the Climb.
Because he remembers what it’s like when she’s close. Remembers how she bites and pulls and burns in all the best places. Only now something else hums through her mind—some sharp-toothed thing vibrating beneath the surface of her thoughts—and it makes him want to keep his distance. He doesn’t name it though. Doesn’t ask, doesn’t pry, just watches it bloom behind her grin like a secret garden gone a little wild.
His own grin curls slow, a little crooked. "Wouldn’t dream of startin’ with anything less than my best," he drawls, shifting his weight and letting his shadows flick out from his heels, tasting the air like they’ve missed this too. He gives her a look—sharp, inviting, and thoroughly unrepentant—and adds with a smirk, "We both know you like it better when you make me work for it."
Then he moves. Not charging, not reckless. Just fast enough to test her reflexes, launching a shadowy strike for her shoulder—darkness balled up into a fist—and then melting back.
Because he remembers what it’s like when she’s close. Remembers how she bites and pulls and burns in all the best places. Only now something else hums through her mind—some sharp-toothed thing vibrating beneath the surface of her thoughts—and it makes him want to keep his distance. He doesn’t name it though. Doesn’t ask, doesn’t pry, just watches it bloom behind her grin like a secret garden gone a little wild.
His own grin curls slow, a little crooked. "Wouldn’t dream of startin’ with anything less than my best," he drawls, shifting his weight and letting his shadows flick out from his heels, tasting the air like they’ve missed this too. He gives her a look—sharp, inviting, and thoroughly unrepentant—and adds with a smirk, "We both know you like it better when you make me work for it."
Then he moves. Not charging, not reckless. Just fast enough to test her reflexes, launching a shadowy strike for her shoulder—darkness balled up into a fist—and then melting back.
Push, shove, a little bruised and battered
oh lord, I ain't coming home with you
oh lord, I ain't coming home with you
☆ 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.
