suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go
He answers with all the gusto of someone that seems distracted. Either he didn’t hear what she said prior or he’s very excited with coming back to Torchline. So she hides the soft snicker behind her sun tanned hand, nose scrunching as she peers at him with those warm yet still calculating amber eyes, switching the subject to see whether or not he could figure it out.
And she wonders if he’s going to lose his shit if she tells him her mother’s Safrin, given he’s offered every other possible option that seemed more.. mundane, if she’s being honest.
But as a beacon or a boon, she watches as she remains tucked against him, leg tilted toward him for his hand to rest against her warm and soft thigh, the fabric of her dress shorter here but softer, leading little to the imagination in terms of curves and smooth skin beneath it. “Can’t fly, baby. I’ve got a jaguar shift.” She winks, because if he was wondering if she had literal claws?
She absolutely could.
But it also explains the feline nature to her slyness, her curiosity that gets the better of her, and she scans his handsome face as he rattles the brain cells together in his mind hoping it strikes on something halfway good.
And he reasons with so many varying options that her laughter bursts out of her chest, her smile soft as she shakes her head to each and every answer. But rather than give it up so flippantly, she figures she can take him by surprise, so Caly twists in her seat, curling up against his side to his ear, beneath the slight curl of dark hair at the nape of his neck. It has the added boon of putting his hand directly into her lap in the process, though it’s clear the attuned doesn’t mind at all. Maybe it was part of the plan.
“My mom’s Safrin. I actually got t’grow up in the stars.” Punctuating the comment with the brief brush of her lips against the shell of his ear, she withdraws, a coy and playful look overcoming her face as she waits to see his reaction.
And she wonders if he’s going to lose his shit if she tells him her mother’s Safrin, given he’s offered every other possible option that seemed more.. mundane, if she’s being honest.
But as a beacon or a boon, she watches as she remains tucked against him, leg tilted toward him for his hand to rest against her warm and soft thigh, the fabric of her dress shorter here but softer, leading little to the imagination in terms of curves and smooth skin beneath it. “Can’t fly, baby. I’ve got a jaguar shift.” She winks, because if he was wondering if she had literal claws?
She absolutely could.
But it also explains the feline nature to her slyness, her curiosity that gets the better of her, and she scans his handsome face as he rattles the brain cells together in his mind hoping it strikes on something halfway good.
And he reasons with so many varying options that her laughter bursts out of her chest, her smile soft as she shakes her head to each and every answer. But rather than give it up so flippantly, she figures she can take him by surprise, so Caly twists in her seat, curling up against his side to his ear, beneath the slight curl of dark hair at the nape of his neck. It has the added boon of putting his hand directly into her lap in the process, though it’s clear the attuned doesn’t mind at all. Maybe it was part of the plan.
“My mom’s Safrin. I actually got t’grow up in the stars.” Punctuating the comment with the brief brush of her lips against the shell of his ear, she withdraws, a coy and playful look overcoming her face as she waits to see his reaction.
Calypso
suddenly i will never be alone
