COLT
He's got blue eyes, crooked smile
Knows that he drives me wild
Sarcastic and witty, drives like he owns the city
Assertive in the best way, no sleep we stay up playin'
Knows that he drives me wild
Sarcastic and witty, drives like he owns the city
Assertive in the best way, no sleep we stay up playin'
She leans over the pool table carefully, rhinestone studded back pockets on full display, the sort of jeans that are only for going out. That's what she'd told Vesper when she invited him along for an otherwise average night for her and her ranch hands. Much as she's loved their moonlit jaunts, she's keen on raising a little hell in town tonight, so the best dive bar in town it is.
Her belt buckle rubs against the table as she presses in, one polished boot lifting behind her to give her a better angle as she lines up her shot. Golden hair drips down onto the green table from beneath the black velvet hat she's got on, and the stick in her hand slides smoothly in her grip as she tests the shot. The low-cut of her sequined top leaves little to the imagination with her dip, but that's kind of the whole point. Somewhere her jacket's claiming a chair, hardly needed in here where body heat and liquor make up for the chill outside.
Once, twice, then she drives the pool cue into the white ball. Her one eye that'd pinched shut for aim snaps open as she leans back, admiring the handiwork with a smile as the solid '2' sinks into the side pocket. Across from her, Wyatt slaps the table rail, and Jesse looks like he might eat his hat. Loser of the night has to feed the horses in the morning, you see—hungover or not, cold as shit or not, and they already lost the last game.
A delighted laugh slips free as she winks at them before rounding to Vesper, pool stick extended to him like she's passing a baton. Teams, they had decided, switching off with their partner after every shot, successful or not. "You're up Ves," she croons, fixing him with a warm gaze and a slant to her smirk.
Her belt buckle rubs against the table as she presses in, one polished boot lifting behind her to give her a better angle as she lines up her shot. Golden hair drips down onto the green table from beneath the black velvet hat she's got on, and the stick in her hand slides smoothly in her grip as she tests the shot. The low-cut of her sequined top leaves little to the imagination with her dip, but that's kind of the whole point. Somewhere her jacket's claiming a chair, hardly needed in here where body heat and liquor make up for the chill outside.
Once, twice, then she drives the pool cue into the white ball. Her one eye that'd pinched shut for aim snaps open as she leans back, admiring the handiwork with a smile as the solid '2' sinks into the side pocket. Across from her, Wyatt slaps the table rail, and Jesse looks like he might eat his hat. Loser of the night has to feed the horses in the morning, you see—hungover or not, cold as shit or not, and they already lost the last game.
A delighted laugh slips free as she winks at them before rounding to Vesper, pool stick extended to him like she's passing a baton. Teams, they had decided, switching off with their partner after every shot, successful or not. "You're up Ves," she croons, fixing him with a warm gaze and a slant to her smirk.
All the things that he says, go straight to my head
Worships me slowly, tells me I'm his only
They say he's morally grey
What can I say? Grey's my favorite color
Worships me slowly, tells me I'm his only
They say he's morally grey
What can I say? Grey's my favorite color
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.
