COLT
What if I hurt you, what if I leave you
What if I find somebody else, and I don't need you
What if this goes south, what if I mess you up
What if I break your heart in two
What if I find somebody else, and I don't need you
What if this goes south, what if I mess you up
What if I break your heart in two
A laugh breaks free as Thorn wrestles with his drink, "sorry," she grins. "But don't you dare spill any of that on me," an unnecessary warning it would seem as he carefully takes his sip and later sets it aside.
The loom of his face over hers at the news of Safrin has her pulling on both her cheeks, groaning a bit. "I know, I know. I about crapped myself when he revealed it to me, in front of her." Although Safrin had been nothing but delightful in that encounter, full of a mother's warmth and adoration for her son, not quite the witch Colt had imagined after all the negative stories she'd heard about her. Still, she trusted those stories, and she didn't think she'd be receiving quite the warm welcome from her without Vesper there, an definitely not if anything bad happened with Vesper. It feels like a risk, calling attention to herself in any manner from a goddess known for destructive devotion.
She's surprised that the age doesn't bother Thorn half as much as the lineage. She glances back up at him, tugging her sights away from the span of her kitchen, 'brows rising. "What, you don't?" It's a genuine question, but she's aware it's perhaps not quite the same for him. "I mean, with work, maybe not. But even then, you don't mind when someone old and wrinkly books you? What if it's like a seventy-year old?" She wrinkles her nose with distaste at the idea.
"Maaaaybe you can tolerate it for a little bit, but you gotta be fucking with me if you're actually okay building a relationship with that much difference." Then again, seventy is double what's between her and Vesper, so eventually there's a line that isn't worth crossing. Still... "I've already got grey hairs Thorn, I'm gonna be like that to him some day. I'm gonna be complaining of aches and pains while he's in his prime, and he's not gonna know any of the shit I'm talking about from when I was young because he wasn't here for it." That thought gives her a pause.
"I actually don't even know if he had a childhood." Her features tighten with thought and confusion. "How the fuck does that work? How does he even know who he is without..." she sits up, forehead pressed against her hand before she grabs for Thorn's drink to take a sip, hers on some other counter. "What a mess."
She exhales slowly through her nose as Thorn tries to digest it all and lay it clean out. She listens attentively, but shakes her head at his suggestion. "I can't ask him that. I don't even know if he wants anything more, I'm just," she flourishes a hand in the air, gesturing at, well everything. "I just can't stop thinking, or feeling. I'd like it to stop." She glances across her shoulder at Thorn, one hand reaching out to grab his arms, fingers curling against him.
"How do you turn it off Thorn?" There's a scared sort of pleading in her face. Surely he's had a time or two where he's felt a little something for a client, he must have tricks to keep that burn from igniting. Gods help her, she can't make a fool of herself anymore than she has.
Maybe if she didn't appreciate every damn thing he did she could have been content to just soak up his attention in the desert, would have been able to do so here and there if it came up again. She could ignore age and Safrin and everything a bit easier if it's just something dumb and fun. Probably is just that, for him. Pretty? Sure, she can appreciate she's attractive enough to inspire Vesper, but it's more than the physical, it's everything he's done, everything more she wants him to do. It's too real, and she's the one who made it that way, and she wants to cut it out of her.
The loom of his face over hers at the news of Safrin has her pulling on both her cheeks, groaning a bit. "I know, I know. I about crapped myself when he revealed it to me, in front of her." Although Safrin had been nothing but delightful in that encounter, full of a mother's warmth and adoration for her son, not quite the witch Colt had imagined after all the negative stories she'd heard about her. Still, she trusted those stories, and she didn't think she'd be receiving quite the warm welcome from her without Vesper there, an definitely not if anything bad happened with Vesper. It feels like a risk, calling attention to herself in any manner from a goddess known for destructive devotion.
She's surprised that the age doesn't bother Thorn half as much as the lineage. She glances back up at him, tugging her sights away from the span of her kitchen, 'brows rising. "What, you don't?" It's a genuine question, but she's aware it's perhaps not quite the same for him. "I mean, with work, maybe not. But even then, you don't mind when someone old and wrinkly books you? What if it's like a seventy-year old?" She wrinkles her nose with distaste at the idea.
"Maaaaybe you can tolerate it for a little bit, but you gotta be fucking with me if you're actually okay building a relationship with that much difference." Then again, seventy is double what's between her and Vesper, so eventually there's a line that isn't worth crossing. Still... "I've already got grey hairs Thorn, I'm gonna be like that to him some day. I'm gonna be complaining of aches and pains while he's in his prime, and he's not gonna know any of the shit I'm talking about from when I was young because he wasn't here for it." That thought gives her a pause.
"I actually don't even know if he had a childhood." Her features tighten with thought and confusion. "How the fuck does that work? How does he even know who he is without..." she sits up, forehead pressed against her hand before she grabs for Thorn's drink to take a sip, hers on some other counter. "What a mess."
She exhales slowly through her nose as Thorn tries to digest it all and lay it clean out. She listens attentively, but shakes her head at his suggestion. "I can't ask him that. I don't even know if he wants anything more, I'm just," she flourishes a hand in the air, gesturing at, well everything. "I just can't stop thinking, or feeling. I'd like it to stop." She glances across her shoulder at Thorn, one hand reaching out to grab his arms, fingers curling against him.
"How do you turn it off Thorn?" There's a scared sort of pleading in her face. Surely he's had a time or two where he's felt a little something for a client, he must have tricks to keep that burn from igniting. Gods help her, she can't make a fool of herself anymore than she has.
Maybe if she didn't appreciate every damn thing he did she could have been content to just soak up his attention in the desert, would have been able to do so here and there if it came up again. She could ignore age and Safrin and everything a bit easier if it's just something dumb and fun. Probably is just that, for him. Pretty? Sure, she can appreciate she's attractive enough to inspire Vesper, but it's more than the physical, it's everything he's done, everything more she wants him to do. It's too real, and she's the one who made it that way, and she wants to cut it out of her.
What if I was made for you and you were made for me
What if I just pulled you close, what if I leaned in
And the stars line up, and it's our last first kiss
What if I loved all these what ifs away
What if I just pulled you close, what if I leaned in
And the stars line up, and it's our last first kiss
What if I loved all these what ifs away
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
