Oh, darling, if I ever cross your mind
“Oh, yeah.” Thorn says a little distractedly – imagining the ships of the Boondocks even though he hasn’t been there in a little while. He does recall the big one, though, one that hadn’t left in between his trips there and back before LongNight, so it has to be the one that she’s talking about. So he nods, settling in as she winds her arms around his side, resting her head against his shoulder and the courtesan slumps into the couch more comfortably.
Tilting his head to let his seafoam gaze settle back on her, lips quirked in a small, nearly there smile. “I find lots’ve people do it to pass the time ‘til the sun comes back.” Thorn doesn’t have horrors to remember during that weeklong night, instead choosing it to be his end of year race to test his endurance. Like doing a marathon once a year under the guise of a holiday spree.
“Ugh, please do. My mouth’s waterin’ at the idea.” His hands come up in a gesture of exhaustion, slumping further and jostling her slightly as he chuckles softly, letting it fade to focus on her thoughts and emotions regarding a certain handsome shadowy demigod. As she mentions an Ancient with history, his head tilts, curls bouncing slightly with the motion as his brows pinch. “Huh. Wonder if they had a thing, maybe an’ she’s bitter? I don’t know ‘er though, so I couldn’t really say.” He scrunches his nose with the thought, focusing back on her again as she fidgets.
His smile is a touch somber, softer, more traditionally him and less of the courtesan as he hears her fears and worries. “You do get a say, though, babe. Either y’let him spin ya up like ya are now for someone who’s unbothered by you bein’ there or you get through the hurt ahead’ve time because ya know your answer.” The shoulder she isn’t leaning against rises and falls in a small shrug. “You’re festerin’ about him.” He says a little quieter, after a moment of searching for the right word.
Hearing her defeat and watching as she slumps onto the couch opposite and drags her knees up, he reaches out to pat at her leg – the vine shackles of tattoos gleaming dark in the light against his pale skin. “Maybe he’s feelin’ the same? Maybe… You’re both scared’ve what it means so y’all do this weird ass dancin’ around the point ‘cause neither of you are willin’ to talk about it in case it ruins whatever it is that ya do have?” All he really has is Colt’s side to go off of – but he knows her well enough to know it isn’t the first time she’s spun about this specific demigod. And frankly, if it were Thorn he’d be fucking exhausted..
Tilting his head to let his seafoam gaze settle back on her, lips quirked in a small, nearly there smile. “I find lots’ve people do it to pass the time ‘til the sun comes back.” Thorn doesn’t have horrors to remember during that weeklong night, instead choosing it to be his end of year race to test his endurance. Like doing a marathon once a year under the guise of a holiday spree.
“Ugh, please do. My mouth’s waterin’ at the idea.” His hands come up in a gesture of exhaustion, slumping further and jostling her slightly as he chuckles softly, letting it fade to focus on her thoughts and emotions regarding a certain handsome shadowy demigod. As she mentions an Ancient with history, his head tilts, curls bouncing slightly with the motion as his brows pinch. “Huh. Wonder if they had a thing, maybe an’ she’s bitter? I don’t know ‘er though, so I couldn’t really say.” He scrunches his nose with the thought, focusing back on her again as she fidgets.
His smile is a touch somber, softer, more traditionally him and less of the courtesan as he hears her fears and worries. “You do get a say, though, babe. Either y’let him spin ya up like ya are now for someone who’s unbothered by you bein’ there or you get through the hurt ahead’ve time because ya know your answer.” The shoulder she isn’t leaning against rises and falls in a small shrug. “You’re festerin’ about him.” He says a little quieter, after a moment of searching for the right word.
Hearing her defeat and watching as she slumps onto the couch opposite and drags her knees up, he reaches out to pat at her leg – the vine shackles of tattoos gleaming dark in the light against his pale skin. “Maybe he’s feelin’ the same? Maybe… You’re both scared’ve what it means so y’all do this weird ass dancin’ around the point ‘cause neither of you are willin’ to talk about it in case it ruins whatever it is that ya do have?” All he really has is Colt’s side to go off of – but he knows her well enough to know it isn’t the first time she’s spun about this specific demigod. And frankly, if it were Thorn he’d be fucking exhausted..
Hawthorn
Won't you let me know?
