REXANNA
i was born with a knife in one hand
“I knew it.” Rex hums in a confident whisper, like it’s just between them that she’d guessed correctly in the fact that it mostly came with tomato. A bolster of pride and amusement that glitters across her face like innocence and bliss before she snickers quietly to herself. His happiness is reflected, the dimples that bloom in his cheeks from his smile and the way Rex squeezes his arm lightly in agreement. “Oh, I think you’ll find I can stand a whole lot of Tuesdays. You might get sick of me before I do.” Is it a playful threat?
It might be.
But mischief blooms in his gaze and it’s immediately mirrored by Roxanna’s own, trying to follow his gaze over toward the music and the dance floor where the lanterns flicker with light so vibrant and alive. His hand is offered and her delight is only just barely held back as she takes it easily, soaking in the warmth of someone who’s very much still alive and so, so real. “Please do. It’s been ages.” Comes the drama as she squeezes his hand, already moving them with a vibrant grin over toward the makeshift dance floor, kicking up only a small amount of sand in her wake as she pulls him along.
It might be.
But mischief blooms in his gaze and it’s immediately mirrored by Roxanna’s own, trying to follow his gaze over toward the music and the dance floor where the lanterns flicker with light so vibrant and alive. His hand is offered and her delight is only just barely held back as she takes it easily, soaking in the warmth of someone who’s very much still alive and so, so real. “Please do. It’s been ages.” Comes the drama as she squeezes his hand, already moving them with a vibrant grin over toward the makeshift dance floor, kicking up only a small amount of sand in her wake as she pulls him along.
and a wound in the other
