Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
That nervous flutter turned to swarming moths as Liam pulled her up against him. Heat rose in her with the easy possessiveness of the gesture, like there'd never been any question of where she belonged. Those same comforting hands that welcomed her home were reminding her with increasing urgency of all the ways their dynamic had changed; from merely friendly and supportive into a burning need demanding closeness. Intimacy. To touch and feel and confirm all over again their promises to each other superceded any commands of the Void. Getting tired of my own words
"Mmh. For one, I have yet to properly show my gratitude, for your patience in waiting for me."
Undoing the last button, her free hand traced a feather light path across his collarbone and down over his torso, winding down the valleys between lean muscle and came to rest just above the lining of his trousers, light and teasing.
Brushing his cheek with the thumb of her other hand, the suggestion to grow out his whiskers was met with an approving nod. "I do like it. I can't actually think of anything about you that I don't like." From the shaggy curls of his hair to the shifting hue of his eyes, and the way his mouth sometimes lent him the air of the younger, frailer boy he may have been - only for the man he was now to reemerge. Solid, confident... hungry. Gods, but she loved the way his expression intensified when gazing at her.
Letting her palm slide from his cheek and down the column of his neck, Maea leaned in and brushed her lips against the hollow of his throat in a lingering kiss. Breathed in the fragrance of his skin, savored how warm and alive it felt under her fingertips. "I like your scent. And your warmth. And how your hands fit around my waist. How your voice sounds... the way you laugh." All of it. All of him.
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
