COLT
Usually, I ain't the type to stay up all damn night
Thinkin' 'bout someone else
It's hard to be fine when your heart's on the line
And the truth is I'm goin' through hell
Thinkin' 'bout someone else
It's hard to be fine when your heart's on the line
And the truth is I'm goin' through hell
She's nothing if not malleable beneath him, tilting and tipping to every grasp he requires, melting around him as she folds his release into her bliss too. Greedy, even at the end, her body doesn't let go until he does. Even when one of her hands is freed, it lingers where he left it, overall too wrecked to do anything but sink fully and deeply into the field in her best impression of a cast off silk garment. Only her legs dare to move, spilling down from her chest, weak as a fresh filly as they slide and tremble along either side of him. Every part of her that had been clenched finally surrenders into the calm and the release, a euphoria all it's own.
The world starts to crawl back in, feeling far too wide after only knowing him, and the nighttime silence it brings is too quiet after all their noise. Cold seeps in slow but steady through the sweat cooling on her skin, not enough to bother yet, but a presence that slides into the absence of the heat. Beneath his head, her thundering heartrate and rapid breaths wander their way back to normal, little by little. A low, shaky laugh slips free, cocked with disbelief more than amusement.
“You’ll be the death of me,” she mutters, her voice broken and soft, nothing left of her usual bite. That she has any part to play in this she can't fathom—she might have burned, but he's the firestarter. She attempts to glance down her chest at him, but the effort is too much and she gives up, head flopping to the other side with a twitch of her fingers. "Not even sure we'll make it to bed, might just have to sleep out here." Which, given the amount of places outside she has slept with him, would not be so unusual, but naked in leafchange would be a first.
The world starts to crawl back in, feeling far too wide after only knowing him, and the nighttime silence it brings is too quiet after all their noise. Cold seeps in slow but steady through the sweat cooling on her skin, not enough to bother yet, but a presence that slides into the absence of the heat. Beneath his head, her thundering heartrate and rapid breaths wander their way back to normal, little by little. A low, shaky laugh slips free, cocked with disbelief more than amusement.
“You’ll be the death of me,” she mutters, her voice broken and soft, nothing left of her usual bite. That she has any part to play in this she can't fathom—she might have burned, but he's the firestarter. She attempts to glance down her chest at him, but the effort is too much and she gives up, head flopping to the other side with a twitch of her fingers. "Not even sure we'll make it to bed, might just have to sleep out here." Which, given the amount of places outside she has slept with him, would not be so unusual, but naked in leafchange would be a first.
I keep it dark, I keep it quiet
But then you come around and light me up
Takin' up space like a hyphen
You're on my mind and I can't fight it
But then you come around and light me up
Takin' up space like a hyphen
You're on my mind and I can't fight it
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.
