I'll let the flames take me high, burn down the whole damn sky
She feels him tip over with her, dimly aware of the way he shifts and folds around her. The absence of him inside her elicits the faintest complaint, but still caught in the tide of her own breaking, the feeling is quickly washed away. She curls into the side of his neck with her teeth and breath, murmuring his name and well-earned praise as she sinks into something slower and steadier.
The tremors linger like ripples of static searching for an exit long after the jolting strike has ended. It leaves her draped against him, all her bones gone liquid and any semblance of strength with them. Her grip loosens gradually in his hair, though her fingers don’t quite leave it, lazily combing back through the strands as she drags in a slow breath. “Gods,” she groans as her forehead drops briefly against his shoulder. ”I’ve been needing that.”
Her chest rises and falls hard against him while the world creeps back in. One hand presses flat against his chest, steadying herself there as the last shiver runs through her. “Glad you’re just as good sightless,” she breathes, voice edged with amusement. And Heartless, though she chooses not to tack that part on.
For another second, she stays where she is, catching her breath, fingers absently tracing the tattoos on his neck before finally easing her grip enough to lean back and wiggle further away. “Did you eat?” she asks, figuring they could use the kitchen table more than one way tonight.
The tremors linger like ripples of static searching for an exit long after the jolting strike has ended. It leaves her draped against him, all her bones gone liquid and any semblance of strength with them. Her grip loosens gradually in his hair, though her fingers don’t quite leave it, lazily combing back through the strands as she drags in a slow breath. “Gods,” she groans as her forehead drops briefly against his shoulder. ”I’ve been needing that.”
Her chest rises and falls hard against him while the world creeps back in. One hand presses flat against his chest, steadying herself there as the last shiver runs through her. “Glad you’re just as good sightless,” she breathes, voice edged with amusement. And Heartless, though she chooses not to tack that part on.
For another second, she stays where she is, catching her breath, fingers absently tracing the tattoos on his neck before finally easing her grip enough to lean back and wiggle further away. “Did you eat?” she asks, figuring they could use the kitchen table more than one way tonight.
Colt
I spent the night on the ceiling, drank the whole weight of my weakness
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
