if you try and chase the sun you're never gonna catch it
Vesper tips his chin in easy agreement, like she’s just saved him the trouble of persuading her. "End of the week’s the full moon," he says, voice even. "Could stay out on your porch for it, if that ain’t too domestic a third date for you." There’s no shift in his expression to betray that he’s already weighing how easily she slid that into her plans, not as a maybe, but as something she’ll make work.
The dragoons, though—her saying his sisters seemed happy enough—draws a quiet, unamused sound out of him. He wrinkles his nose, the sort of expression meant for something he’d rather not taste. He’s got a clear enough picture of what those two were thinkin’, and none of it’s the kind of company he’d leave his sisters to keep. Still, there’s no neat way to voice it without showin’ more than he’s willing, so it stays in the grumble and fades there.
He feels the decision land in her mind before she moves, intent settling like a hand on his collar, and lets her have the satisfaction of closing the gap herself. The sweater bunches under her fingers, but before she can pull him all the way in, his mouth tilts in the faintest smirk. "What's Edith gonna think?" he murmurs, the words brushing close enough to count as a touch.
Then he goes, unhurried and certain, a palm finding her hip through the paint, the edge of his thumb brushing idle circles like he’s been there a while. Her eyes are fixed, warm and whiskey-dark, and he takes his time meeting them, letting the pull between them stretch just enough before leaning in. The kiss is slow, not for lack of want but because there’s no reason to rush it. He’s aware of how much space he takes up in her mind, of how deliberately she’s tried to keep him from overrunning it, and of how this—this deliberate giving in—undoes all that work in a single breath. And he doesn’t mind in the slightest.
The dragoons, though—her saying his sisters seemed happy enough—draws a quiet, unamused sound out of him. He wrinkles his nose, the sort of expression meant for something he’d rather not taste. He’s got a clear enough picture of what those two were thinkin’, and none of it’s the kind of company he’d leave his sisters to keep. Still, there’s no neat way to voice it without showin’ more than he’s willing, so it stays in the grumble and fades there.
He feels the decision land in her mind before she moves, intent settling like a hand on his collar, and lets her have the satisfaction of closing the gap herself. The sweater bunches under her fingers, but before she can pull him all the way in, his mouth tilts in the faintest smirk. "What's Edith gonna think?" he murmurs, the words brushing close enough to count as a touch.
Then he goes, unhurried and certain, a palm finding her hip through the paint, the edge of his thumb brushing idle circles like he’s been there a while. Her eyes are fixed, warm and whiskey-dark, and he takes his time meeting them, letting the pull between them stretch just enough before leaning in. The kiss is slow, not for lack of want but because there’s no reason to rush it. He’s aware of how much space he takes up in her mind, of how deliberately she’s tried to keep him from overrunning it, and of how this—this deliberate giving in—undoes all that work in a single breath. And he doesn’t mind in the slightest.
And now it's turning out to be the worst of my bad habits
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
