I'm just a cherub riding comets through the night sky
Vesper doesn’t just feel her kiss—he hears it in her mind before it happens. The thoughts curling up to it like a wave at high tide, the way she steels herself then lets go, a surrender wrapped in that sly, slanted grin of hers. It's not a stumble—it’s a choice. A full-bodied decision that crashes through him with more impact than the desert, more clarity than the sea.
So when she presses against him, lips finding his with salt and certainty, his shadows rise like a hush around them, easing their sway so he can gather her close—one arm looping around her waist, the other sliding up her back to anchor her in place.
He kisses her back like she is the x on a map. The treasure at the end of every fucked-up journey. Long and slow, not rushed or rough, just full of all the grit and ache and heat they’ve been carrying across every mile of dust. She tastes like relief and reckless want, and gods if he doesn’t want to drown in it.
When they part, his grin’s crooked and his cheeks are flushed, eyes bright with mischief and the sea’s gleam. "Well," he drawls, voice low and wrecked in the best way, "that just about made trudgin’ across the fuckin’ desert worth it." The next swell tips them just enough to break the moment, and Vesper laughs under his breath, turning in the water. "Alright, darlin’—" He flashes her a look over his shoulder, all teeth and temptation. "Climb on. I’ll carry you in." And with that, he offers his back again, a silent invitation made casual by long practice.
So when she presses against him, lips finding his with salt and certainty, his shadows rise like a hush around them, easing their sway so he can gather her close—one arm looping around her waist, the other sliding up her back to anchor her in place.
He kisses her back like she is the x on a map. The treasure at the end of every fucked-up journey. Long and slow, not rushed or rough, just full of all the grit and ache and heat they’ve been carrying across every mile of dust. She tastes like relief and reckless want, and gods if he doesn’t want to drown in it.
When they part, his grin’s crooked and his cheeks are flushed, eyes bright with mischief and the sea’s gleam. "Well," he drawls, voice low and wrecked in the best way, "that just about made trudgin’ across the fuckin’ desert worth it." The next swell tips them just enough to break the moment, and Vesper laughs under his breath, turning in the water. "Alright, darlin’—" He flashes her a look over his shoulder, all teeth and temptation. "Climb on. I’ll carry you in." And with that, he offers his back again, a silent invitation made casual by long practice.
VESPER
☆ 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.
