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
As he slides off onto the ground beside her, a fresh wave of chill washes over her, air rushing in where it'd just been the press of his skin. It sends a shiver through her, goosebumps rippling up her legs and arms. Her head turns with him, gaze catching on the messy tumble of his hair and drifting to the shadow of his nose, to the flicker of starlit freckles over his cheeks and the way they shift to yield for his smirk. He looks good, like this—silvered from the moonlight and glowing a bit, the way someone pleased with themselves always does. He looks softer than usual, something she's only noticed occasionally and in fleeting moments, but this one lingers longer. Maybe it's her that's softer. Could be both. Either way, for just a quick moment, she thinks she could do more of this, with him—be soft. Dinners and homes and something more than just fire in a field. The thought doesn't linger long enough to take root, barely enough to register, and then it vanishes with a sigh.
At his confidence of getting them back inside, one of her arms flops over her eyes and a small groan rises at his words. The idea of moving is currently unbearable, even if she's just being gathered up, the idea of eventually sounding far worse than never. "You planning on turning us into mist again?" Her question is tinged with some hesitancy, because while she'd never outright admit it, that gave her belly flops more than a fresh and hot three-year-old does. "What if we come out of it and our legs have switched bodies? Or I got your ear coming out of my shoulder?" She peeks back at him from under her arm, smiling like it's a joke, but she's half-serious. Has he tested this magic extensively?
Her hair shifts as her head turns back the other way towards what he means, her arm sinking back to her side. The skin rests a bit away, seemingly innocent. "Sure, sure," she concedes too smoothly, gaze trailing straight up to the night sky with the slow curl of a doubtful smile. "Has nothing to do with you liking to put on a show for the stars I bet," which given it's two for two now, is sounding like there's some truth to it. "I'm guessing you didn't like whenever you couldn't see while you were up there so you're making sure that's not the case for anyone else," she teases as she glances back at him, not seeming to mind the idea much, even if his mother is one such set of eyes, a thought she very much doesn't want to dwell on thank you.
"Alright," she starts after a pause. She shifts onto her side more, making it easier to look at him, one arm folding under her head. "Tell me what your dream is." With the world wide and still around them, and the topic from earlier still on her mind, she wonders more and more about this man demigod that's so thoroughly caught inside her chest. "Everyone's got a dream."
At his confidence of getting them back inside, one of her arms flops over her eyes and a small groan rises at his words. The idea of moving is currently unbearable, even if she's just being gathered up, the idea of eventually sounding far worse than never. "You planning on turning us into mist again?" Her question is tinged with some hesitancy, because while she'd never outright admit it, that gave her belly flops more than a fresh and hot three-year-old does. "What if we come out of it and our legs have switched bodies? Or I got your ear coming out of my shoulder?" She peeks back at him from under her arm, smiling like it's a joke, but she's half-serious. Has he tested this magic extensively?
Her hair shifts as her head turns back the other way towards what he means, her arm sinking back to her side. The skin rests a bit away, seemingly innocent. "Sure, sure," she concedes too smoothly, gaze trailing straight up to the night sky with the slow curl of a doubtful smile. "Has nothing to do with you liking to put on a show for the stars I bet," which given it's two for two now, is sounding like there's some truth to it. "I'm guessing you didn't like whenever you couldn't see while you were up there so you're making sure that's not the case for anyone else," she teases as she glances back at him, not seeming to mind the idea much, even if his mother is one such set of eyes, a thought she very much doesn't want to dwell on thank you.
"Alright," she starts after a pause. She shifts onto her side more, making it easier to look at him, one arm folding under her head. "Tell me what your dream is." With the world wide and still around them, and the topic from earlier still on her mind, she wonders more and more about this man demigod that's so thoroughly caught inside her chest. "Everyone's got a dream."
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.
