VESPER
He watches her with the sort of indulgent quiet usually reserved for storms on the horizon or fireworks about to go off. Colt doesn’t just move—she prowls, each shift of denim and sequin deliberate, meant for the eye and unapologetically so. In this room full of grit and spilt beer, she’s all polish and spitfire, carved in confidence and just enough recklessness to make it interesting. Even when she fumbles, it’s grace reimagined; an outlaw in rhinestones, too sure of herself to ever fall from the saddle for long.
Vesper snorts under his breath, slow and dry, as he glances sidelong at the ranch hands, an almost-apologetic shrug rolling across his shoulders like a lazy tide. "Or," he drawls, "they might as well keep goin’. Don’t think there’s any comin’ back from this. May as well enjoy the evening."
His voice isn’t unkind, but it’s edged with a smirk that doesn’t bother softenin’ for Jesse’s sake, least of all when his shrill screech ruins Colt's shot. That petty flicker of satisfaction is loud in the man’s thoughts, high and brittle and far too easy to needle. Vesper doesn’t move, but his shadows do, curling along the floor like spilled ink—barely-there tendrils brushing against Jesse’s boots. Not enough to ruin the shot he was about to line up, but hopefully enough to cause him to stumble against the table.
Colt’s weight folds against his side a moment later, steady and familiar, and his arm settles easily around her shoulders in return. It’s casual in the same way velvet’s casual—soft, sure, and designed to make an impression. The cue she hands off is accepted with an absent hum, his fingers brushing hers as he balances it lightly across both palms. "Still think I’m the one startin’ trouble?" he murmurs, tipping his head toward hers with a ghost of a grin. "Didn’t hear me makin’ any birdcalls."
Vesper snorts under his breath, slow and dry, as he glances sidelong at the ranch hands, an almost-apologetic shrug rolling across his shoulders like a lazy tide. "Or," he drawls, "they might as well keep goin’. Don’t think there’s any comin’ back from this. May as well enjoy the evening."
His voice isn’t unkind, but it’s edged with a smirk that doesn’t bother softenin’ for Jesse’s sake, least of all when his shrill screech ruins Colt's shot. That petty flicker of satisfaction is loud in the man’s thoughts, high and brittle and far too easy to needle. Vesper doesn’t move, but his shadows do, curling along the floor like spilled ink—barely-there tendrils brushing against Jesse’s boots. Not enough to ruin the shot he was about to line up, but hopefully enough to cause him to stumble against the table.
Colt’s weight folds against his side a moment later, steady and familiar, and his arm settles easily around her shoulders in return. It’s casual in the same way velvet’s casual—soft, sure, and designed to make an impression. The cue she hands off is accepted with an absent hum, his fingers brushing hers as he balances it lightly across both palms. "Still think I’m the one startin’ trouble?" he murmurs, tipping his head toward hers with a ghost of a grin. "Didn’t hear me makin’ any birdcalls."
rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?
☆ 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.
