just because the fog is there
Vesper hums, brows lifted in dry amusement as she rallies against the accusation. "Misty express," he repeats, the words ghosted through a half-laugh, shaking his head as though he’s lost a bet he hadn’t known he’d made. "Reckon I’ll have to start charg—" but he doesn’t finish it, just lets the idea fizzle as her look sharpens. Smart of her to pick him over the path, though he doesn’t press that particular point.
At her crack about voyeurs, his brows rise higher still, unrepentant. "Doors ‘n roofs don’t do much against it," he says, all lazy certainty, like it’s a thing he knows in his bones. "Mort’s realm’s...different, I expect. I don’t think they get a front row seat every time you take your shirt off. But up there?" His voice dips as his gaze sweeps openly down the length of her again, dragging heat in its wake in response to the look she gives him. "I don’t mind watchin’." That half-smirk of his is slow and sharp, and there’s not a trace of guilt in it.
But when dreams get brought into it, the tone shifts, and though Colt’s voice stays soft, her words slip under his skin, draw his gaze sidelong to her. There’s no rebuttal from him this time. Just a faint exhale, a roll of his shoulder, and a vague, "Guess I’ll get right on that," tossed out like smoke meant to hide the shape of something deeper, or perhaps something not there at all.
Still, her dream catches him. "A pegasus, huh?" His voice lifts with interest, not mockery, and the grin that curls across his mouth is crooked and warm. "Pretty sure Sunjata can shift into one," he drawls, head tipping to the side as though seriously considering it. "Could always try practicin’ tamin' and ridin' him first." He lets that hang just long enough to see if she’ll punch him before softening his tone, her sincerity bleeding into him through her thoughts, through the glint of something bright that still dares to rise in her. "Maybe one day we can head up there," he murmurs, "see if we can spot any for you."
And that’s the moment he forces himself upright, groaning quietly as his spine stretches with a crack and a breath. Glancing over his shoulder, he flashes her a grin like they haven’t just wrecked each other in the grass. "Come on," he says, rising to a crouch and brushing a few crushed blades from his palm. The snakeskin stays where it is, catching moonlight like spilled silver, abandoned but intentional.
He reaches for her hand, shadows curling to meet his call, and the next breath they take is swallowed by mist. A blink, and they’re inside her kitchen again, with Colt perched on the cool counter, right where it'd all begun.
~FIN
At her crack about voyeurs, his brows rise higher still, unrepentant. "Doors ‘n roofs don’t do much against it," he says, all lazy certainty, like it’s a thing he knows in his bones. "Mort’s realm’s...different, I expect. I don’t think they get a front row seat every time you take your shirt off. But up there?" His voice dips as his gaze sweeps openly down the length of her again, dragging heat in its wake in response to the look she gives him. "I don’t mind watchin’." That half-smirk of his is slow and sharp, and there’s not a trace of guilt in it.
But when dreams get brought into it, the tone shifts, and though Colt’s voice stays soft, her words slip under his skin, draw his gaze sidelong to her. There’s no rebuttal from him this time. Just a faint exhale, a roll of his shoulder, and a vague, "Guess I’ll get right on that," tossed out like smoke meant to hide the shape of something deeper, or perhaps something not there at all.
Still, her dream catches him. "A pegasus, huh?" His voice lifts with interest, not mockery, and the grin that curls across his mouth is crooked and warm. "Pretty sure Sunjata can shift into one," he drawls, head tipping to the side as though seriously considering it. "Could always try practicin’ tamin' and ridin' him first." He lets that hang just long enough to see if she’ll punch him before softening his tone, her sincerity bleeding into him through her thoughts, through the glint of something bright that still dares to rise in her. "Maybe one day we can head up there," he murmurs, "see if we can spot any for you."
And that’s the moment he forces himself upright, groaning quietly as his spine stretches with a crack and a breath. Glancing over his shoulder, he flashes her a grin like they haven’t just wrecked each other in the grass. "Come on," he says, rising to a crouch and brushing a few crushed blades from his palm. The snakeskin stays where it is, catching moonlight like spilled silver, abandoned but intentional.
He reaches for her hand, shadows curling to meet his call, and the next breath they take is swallowed by mist. A blink, and they’re inside her kitchen again, with Colt perched on the cool counter, right where it'd all begun.
~FIN
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.
