Kaisel
She keeps not answering the questions. They hang, hollow and waiting, clarity just out of reach and hurt rushing into the space that waits. They're each rearing back from each other, too stunned by the chafe of this when it has always come easy, and maybe that's what lands hardest of all. Because why isn't this also as easy as everything else? "Why does a nice time have to mean there's no clothes??" His voice pitches up higher with the disbelief as she focuses on the one fact that he's the one somehow ruining this by wanting some fabric. Hell, he'd take a speedo even. A loincloth. Anything that could serve as a barrier. Duct tape some fucking seaweed to their cocks if need be and pass it off as pool-side sushi.
His teeth set sharply against each other as she stiffens, then retreats from his grip. She grasps for some manner of poise, and he feels like it's armor she's donning when all he needs is some emotional honesty here and not her perfected fighting stance for diplomacy. Though, the edge to her tone works his jaw once, twice, as he considers if he did in fact just overstep. His hand thumps at his side, feeling like an answer in and of itself, and he glances away with a glare into the dark along the side of the house. An egg sits there, gleaming in the shrubs, but he couldn't give a fuck.
"What are you trying to do here, Flora?" he manages, copper gaze flicking back to her with a hardness that's trying to stay soft. No, he doesn't want to fight, but also, what the fuck? "Do you want them?" Read: What else are dicks out in a hot tub good for, and is he suddenly not enough? He'd thought they'd made it all clear in the waves, but apparently not.
His teeth set sharply against each other as she stiffens, then retreats from his grip. She grasps for some manner of poise, and he feels like it's armor she's donning when all he needs is some emotional honesty here and not her perfected fighting stance for diplomacy. Though, the edge to her tone works his jaw once, twice, as he considers if he did in fact just overstep. His hand thumps at his side, feeling like an answer in and of itself, and he glances away with a glare into the dark along the side of the house. An egg sits there, gleaming in the shrubs, but he couldn't give a fuck.
"What are you trying to do here, Flora?" he manages, copper gaze flicking back to her with a hardness that's trying to stay soft. No, he doesn't want to fight, but also, what the fuck? "Do you want them?" Read: What else are dicks out in a hot tub good for, and is he suddenly not enough? He'd thought they'd made it all clear in the waves, but apparently not.
Wanted me to fail out of spite, I didn't
All bark but they don't bite, they timid
All bark but they don't bite, they timid
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
