Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
Huffing a quiet giggle at the look on his face, Maea didn't need any more encouragement. "If it's too hot, we can wait. I can think of several ways to occupy us in the meantime." The smile that lingered on her lips took on a suggestive expression, warm and inviting as her hands slid from their rest over his heart to the buttons of his shirt and slowly began to undo them, one by one. Maea might need the bath far more than he did, but she enjoyed the ritual of taking it together, of doing these little things for him that no one else was allowed. Simply existing in his space, breathing in the fragrance of him.Getting tired of my own words
Tilting her head back she traced the lines of his face with a gaze soft as lavender, admiring every angle, every imperfection that turned him from a work of art into a very real, very human man. There weren't many. How anyone could be this handsome without magic or the touch of divinity was beyond her. The hint of a beard shadowing his chin only enhanced it; she couldn't resist freeing one hand from its work unbuttoning to reach for his face so she could feel the bristles again. "This suits you," she smiled. "Have you ever let it grow out fully?"
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
