the sun inside of her rages like wildfire
and she is gold, gold, gold
and she is gold, gold, gold
It’s a self assuredness that Caly also shares - but in the way that’s more akin to being more calculating and distrusting of others initially. Everything is ok because it had to be, because she’s not willing to let anyone but her siblings see her when it isn’t okay. But, luckily for her, that hasn’t fully happened just yet. Disappointments, sure, but anything actually bad? She’s been lucky so far.
And with Kaisel at her side, ever present and stalwart, the young attuned beams. She radiates a certain sunshine happiness that typically was a mask, but she finds it slipping in his presence. She doesn’t need to lie to him, because there was nothing to gain from it. She didn’t need to be stealthy or sneaky, because he was so genuine with everything he did that she can’t fathom the idea he might not be.
Or maybe she likes him more than she’s admitted to herself.
Tucked tight against his side, she leans into him as they walk, listening as he answers her question and already offers her a taste, and how can she resist? "'Course I do." Mischief flickers in her amber gaze for a brief moment before she’s tugging him down, deciding not to take it with her hands (one’s occupied anyway with the chili dusted cherries) but with her mouth instead. But fuck, he’s tall, so it takes a moment and interrupts their steps, but she manages to steal it with the briefest press of her lips against his, biting down on the sweet, dessert fruit and humming her appreciation as she’s momentarily silenced by the snack in her mouth.
And with Kaisel at her side, ever present and stalwart, the young attuned beams. She radiates a certain sunshine happiness that typically was a mask, but she finds it slipping in his presence. She doesn’t need to lie to him, because there was nothing to gain from it. She didn’t need to be stealthy or sneaky, because he was so genuine with everything he did that she can’t fathom the idea he might not be.
Or maybe she likes him more than she’s admitted to herself.
Tucked tight against his side, she leans into him as they walk, listening as he answers her question and already offers her a taste, and how can she resist? "'Course I do." Mischief flickers in her amber gaze for a brief moment before she’s tugging him down, deciding not to take it with her hands (one’s occupied anyway with the chili dusted cherries) but with her mouth instead. But fuck, he’s tall, so it takes a moment and interrupts their steps, but she manages to steal it with the briefest press of her lips against his, biting down on the sweet, dessert fruit and humming her appreciation as she’s momentarily silenced by the snack in her mouth.
Calypso
and she is scorching the skin of my heart
