just because the fog is there
Vesper huffs out a low breath of amusement, the sound warm and quiet between them. "Didn’t figure you for the overly cautious type," he drawls, head still heavy in the grass, eyes slanted sideways toward her. "But hey, if you wanna hobble barefoot across all the burrs an’ brambles Leafchange’s got to offer, I’ll follow. Just don’t whine to me when it bites back."
He doesn’t miss the flicker in Colt's smile, the half-joke of it, the ripple of uncertainty just beneath. Nor the way her thoughts snag briefly on his mother—, something he politely sidesteps in silence. Her next comment gets a sharper laugh, the sound curling warm as smoke in his chest. "You really think a roof’s gonna keep the stars from watchin’?" he muses, brow lifting with mock incredulity. "Darlin’, if they wanna look, there ain’t a door in the world that’ll keep ‘em out."
When she shifts onto her side, his gaze drinks her in with languid approval. Moonlight coats her skin in pale silver, softening muscle and sharpness alike, leaving her looking like something sculpted in secret and offered up only to the night. The splay of her hair in the grass like wildfire gone still; the glint of sweat across her collarbone and the faint rise and fall of her chest. She’s all open edges and spent heat, golden turned to silver now, and he lets himself admire the whole damn sight with a slow, pleased drag of his gaze.
But her question cuts in quiet, and it lingers. The words alone are vague, but the way her mind wraps around them, the weight of what’s not said, paints the shape of it clear enough. He exhales, something closer to a sigh than a laugh this time, and rakes a hand through his damp hair before finally rolling onto his back. The sky yawns above them, deep and uncaring, full of stars that don’t blink. "Ain’t really for people like me to have a dream," he says eventually, voice rougher now, stripped of play.
His cheek rests in the grass as he turns to look at her again, blue eyes sharp even in the dark. "Plenty of kids got expectations hung ‘round their necks," he adds, tone wry. "But mine ain't the kind you can outrun. I was brought into this world for a reason." His gaze holds hers, steady and unflinching. There’s no bitterness in it, only matter-of-fact weight, something cold and quiet and worn smooth. He lets his eyes trace the curve of her bare shoulder, the slow, steady rise of her breathing, then shrugs one more time. "Ain’t sure dreams are for men like me." His voice softens, just a touch, like a flicker of warmth through a crack in the dark. "What about you?" he murmurs, eyes still on her.
He doesn’t miss the flicker in Colt's smile, the half-joke of it, the ripple of uncertainty just beneath. Nor the way her thoughts snag briefly on his mother—, something he politely sidesteps in silence. Her next comment gets a sharper laugh, the sound curling warm as smoke in his chest. "You really think a roof’s gonna keep the stars from watchin’?" he muses, brow lifting with mock incredulity. "Darlin’, if they wanna look, there ain’t a door in the world that’ll keep ‘em out."
When she shifts onto her side, his gaze drinks her in with languid approval. Moonlight coats her skin in pale silver, softening muscle and sharpness alike, leaving her looking like something sculpted in secret and offered up only to the night. The splay of her hair in the grass like wildfire gone still; the glint of sweat across her collarbone and the faint rise and fall of her chest. She’s all open edges and spent heat, golden turned to silver now, and he lets himself admire the whole damn sight with a slow, pleased drag of his gaze.
But her question cuts in quiet, and it lingers. The words alone are vague, but the way her mind wraps around them, the weight of what’s not said, paints the shape of it clear enough. He exhales, something closer to a sigh than a laugh this time, and rakes a hand through his damp hair before finally rolling onto his back. The sky yawns above them, deep and uncaring, full of stars that don’t blink. "Ain’t really for people like me to have a dream," he says eventually, voice rougher now, stripped of play.
His cheek rests in the grass as he turns to look at her again, blue eyes sharp even in the dark. "Plenty of kids got expectations hung ‘round their necks," he adds, tone wry. "But mine ain't the kind you can outrun. I was brought into this world for a reason." His gaze holds hers, steady and unflinching. There’s no bitterness in it, only matter-of-fact weight, something cold and quiet and worn smooth. He lets his eyes trace the curve of her bare shoulder, the slow, steady rise of her breathing, then shrugs one more time. "Ain’t sure dreams are for men like me." His voice softens, just a touch, like a flicker of warmth through a crack in the dark. "What about you?" he murmurs, eyes still on her.
don't mean nothing's behind it
☆ 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.
