COLT
You put the cool in the breeze
You put the weak here in my knees
You put me right where I'm supposed to be
In your blue-eyed sea, and I wanna sail away
You put the weak here in my knees
You put me right where I'm supposed to be
In your blue-eyed sea, and I wanna sail away
A laugh shakes free at his tease, forcing movement she'd rather avoid, so she tosses her head to the other side, burying her humor and the too true foundation of it into the blankets. His lips skate more along her neck with the motion, a tickle that ends with the drag of his stubble, a feeling she relaxes into with a stilling of her hand in his hair. "I said you were the best," she rouses the correction, rolling her eyes faintly before tilting back towards him with a smirk. "A title which I just might take away, on second thought." Though as before, her threat is entirely hollow, no telepathy required to see through it.
"Speak for yourself," she sighs as he begins to part from her, hands sliding from his back to tug up the strands of her own mess of hair. She remembers the flower suddenly, and feels around carefully for it while relieving herself of all the wayward pins that had grown displaced in his earlier grip. "I saw plenty of stars." Her grin implies there's more than the ones in the sky that she means, although she saw those too, even if they didn't really receive the full weight of her attention. She finds the flower just as his fingers skim too slow, too light along her side—drawing a quiet gasp that hiccups her focus and sends the bloom slipping from her grip again. She rounds an accusing stare on him, but equally her thighs tighten with meaning, holding firm against him just for a moment, unwilling to give him up so soon, especially not when he leaves a fresh trail of suggestion in his wake. Appeasing that line of thought isn't likely right now, but all her hungers are drifting in and out of each other, and the idea of burning out the starlight with him is infinitely appealing.
His devious comment and the roguish look he takes on sets her mouth ajar. Her hold turns to a shove as she hooks a leg and sets her knee against him in a half-hearted attempt to topple him, scandal embedded in her grin. Her laughter follows suit quickly though, bright and breathless with all her affection for him folded up in its seams. She wriggles up into a sitting position, leaning over her knees as she eyes the basket's retrieval with anticipation. "So you're too full, is what I'm hearing?" One eyebrow lifts up with the question, a coy glance thrown his way. "Shame, more for me I guess."
She leans forward to steal the basket from his reach. If her timing’s poor, she’ll be in a tug-o-war with his shadows, but she means to tuck it behind her back and guard it as long as she's able. Which, everything she does know about him, likely won't be long at all, so blindly one hand reaches into the flap to try and grab a bundle of crackers just to be safe.
"Speak for yourself," she sighs as he begins to part from her, hands sliding from his back to tug up the strands of her own mess of hair. She remembers the flower suddenly, and feels around carefully for it while relieving herself of all the wayward pins that had grown displaced in his earlier grip. "I saw plenty of stars." Her grin implies there's more than the ones in the sky that she means, although she saw those too, even if they didn't really receive the full weight of her attention. She finds the flower just as his fingers skim too slow, too light along her side—drawing a quiet gasp that hiccups her focus and sends the bloom slipping from her grip again. She rounds an accusing stare on him, but equally her thighs tighten with meaning, holding firm against him just for a moment, unwilling to give him up so soon, especially not when he leaves a fresh trail of suggestion in his wake. Appeasing that line of thought isn't likely right now, but all her hungers are drifting in and out of each other, and the idea of burning out the starlight with him is infinitely appealing.
His devious comment and the roguish look he takes on sets her mouth ajar. Her hold turns to a shove as she hooks a leg and sets her knee against him in a half-hearted attempt to topple him, scandal embedded in her grin. Her laughter follows suit quickly though, bright and breathless with all her affection for him folded up in its seams. She wriggles up into a sitting position, leaning over her knees as she eyes the basket's retrieval with anticipation. "So you're too full, is what I'm hearing?" One eyebrow lifts up with the question, a coy glance thrown his way. "Shame, more for me I guess."
She leans forward to steal the basket from his reach. If her timing’s poor, she’ll be in a tug-o-war with his shadows, but she means to tuck it behind her back and guard it as long as she's able. Which, everything she does know about him, likely won't be long at all, so blindly one hand reaches into the flap to try and grab a bundle of crackers just to be safe.
You knock me out kiss by kiss
I need you baby, sip by sip
Sit back and let me drink you in
I'm fallin' for you, over and over and over again
I need you baby, sip by sip
Sit back and let me drink you in
I'm fallin' for you, over and over and over again
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.
