you're livin' for the rush, for that royal flush, but you take what you can get
It would be far too easy to get lost in this, Danta realises. Kissing the butcher is one of his favourite pastimes as it is, but never before has he realised how much the rest of the world falls away between the press of his body and the soft brush of his lips. He ought to care more, he supposes - it's a good way to get a knife between the ribs, being distracted like this - but he can't find it in him to draw away, not until his lungs scream for air.
And even then, it's with a quiet, reluctant moan and a final flick of his tongue that he withdraws, feeling molten in all the places they touch and huffing out a soft breath of laughter. "We should go," he whispers, "before the memory mud comes after us again. I bet that mud-man has turned itself around out there and is on its way as we speak."
And even then, it's with a quiet, reluctant moan and a final flick of his tongue that he withdraws, feeling molten in all the places they touch and huffing out a soft breath of laughter. "We should go," he whispers, "before the memory mud comes after us again. I bet that mud-man has turned itself around out there and is on its way as we speak."
Dantalion
you play your final ace for a pretty face, tastes like scotch and cigarettes
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
