Colt
Love's just one of them words
That gets thrown around
So I ain't gonna say it, no I ain't gonna lie
If you were my last breath, I'd just wanna hold ya
That gets thrown around
So I ain't gonna say it, no I ain't gonna lie
If you were my last breath, I'd just wanna hold ya
There's a moment where her grip tightens against his back and her breath hitches, spine rigid against the sudden tilting of the world, which is normally just figurative whenever she's around him and not quite this literal. For someone who spends most of her day riding balance and maintaining control, having it stolen from her is startling, to say the least.
It doesn't last long before she's yielding to the angle of him, giving in to the trust that he's fed into her bit by bit with each time he's had her steady. The butterflies it stirs, as any recovery after a rush is like to do, tips her smile further. Only he could still manage to make something as simple as a kiss feel like such a thrill. Gods help her, this boy isn't doing her lead foot tendencies any favors, even with the speed limit in mind.
The paint is just an excuse to lay off the gas, but even that he's found a way to keep floored. She knows even before she looks, though her head tilts over her arm anyway, her gaze sliding from him to the side wall where a spectacle is certainly on display. "Poor Edith won't be able to trust her eyes at all after this. She's going to have a time at her next glasses appointment." Her smirk keeps breaking free while she tries to maintain nonchalance, and eventually she gives up and captures part of her bottom lip beneath her teeth for a bit to calm it.
Turning back to him with a fully devious look, she leans in to steal another kiss, this one fleeting though. "Good," she says low and rough into the space between them, lingering just enough for her nose tip to brush his, gaze finding his from her lashes. She unhooks her hold on him though, leaving just a dual pat on his chest before she fully steps away. "Then you can handle the others while I go pack. Edith was just the first house." A daring laugh slips free as she gathers her jacket from the fence, utterly pleased with herself. He's the spitting image of neighborhood help, however sour he might be about the arrangement. There's something to be said about watching a man at work though, and she does stall by the gate to fully drink him in, her teeth finding her lip for an entirely different reason now before she leaves him to it.
[FIN]
It doesn't last long before she's yielding to the angle of him, giving in to the trust that he's fed into her bit by bit with each time he's had her steady. The butterflies it stirs, as any recovery after a rush is like to do, tips her smile further. Only he could still manage to make something as simple as a kiss feel like such a thrill. Gods help her, this boy isn't doing her lead foot tendencies any favors, even with the speed limit in mind.
The paint is just an excuse to lay off the gas, but even that he's found a way to keep floored. She knows even before she looks, though her head tilts over her arm anyway, her gaze sliding from him to the side wall where a spectacle is certainly on display. "Poor Edith won't be able to trust her eyes at all after this. She's going to have a time at her next glasses appointment." Her smirk keeps breaking free while she tries to maintain nonchalance, and eventually she gives up and captures part of her bottom lip beneath her teeth for a bit to calm it.
Turning back to him with a fully devious look, she leans in to steal another kiss, this one fleeting though. "Good," she says low and rough into the space between them, lingering just enough for her nose tip to brush his, gaze finding his from her lashes. She unhooks her hold on him though, leaving just a dual pat on his chest before she fully steps away. "Then you can handle the others while I go pack. Edith was just the first house." A daring laugh slips free as she gathers her jacket from the fence, utterly pleased with herself. He's the spitting image of neighborhood help, however sour he might be about the arrangement. There's something to be said about watching a man at work though, and she does stall by the gate to fully drink him in, her teeth finding her lip for an entirely different reason now before she leaves him to it.
[FIN]
If you were my last shot of whiskey
I'd press you to my lips, take a little sip
Swirl you around and around and around
Then I'd shoot ya down
I'd press you to my lips, take a little sip
Swirl you around and around and around
Then I'd shoot ya down
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.
