wish I could bottle the taste
The Ark lets the question drift through her like something only half-caught, her attention lingering instead on the way he holds her, on the steadiness of it, the ease, as though she has always belonged in the space between his arms. "I’ve been all around," she murmurs, her voice softened by distance rather than uncertainty, her gaze slipping briefly past him as if tracing coastlines only she can see. "But most recently... the east."
A sigh follows, low and drawn, not dramatic but weighted just enough to suggest something quietly disappointed beneath it, her lashes lowering before she looks back at him, that same softness returning with a faint tilt of her head. "It’s a shame," she adds, almost absently, though the words land with intention all the same, "I was really hoping Torchline would work out, but I guess the rumours about this place are true."
Her eyes settle on him again as he brushes off her gratitude, and this time there is something slower in it, something that lingers just a breath longer than politeness requires, the faintest pull of something deeper threading through the look as her lips curve. "Well," she says, her tone light but warm, "I’m glad it was you, then." The words slip easily into place, and she lets them stay there, watching how they land before she shifts faintly in his arms, a small adjustment that presses her closer without ever seeming to try.
At the mention of the smoothie stand she nods, the movement subtle but felt, her weight settling more comfortably against him as though she’s already decided to trust where he takes her, as if he's the sort of man who exudes trustworthiness. When Kaisel gives his name, she repeats it slowly, tasting the shape of it, letting it roll across her tongue with a softness that lingers just slightly at the edges. "Kaisel…" she hums, a faint smile touching her lips as her gaze lifts to meet his again. "It’s nice to meet you."
His question pulls her attention just enough to shift the moment naturally, her expression flickering with a small crease of thought before she answers. "He couldn’t have been more than fourteen, maybe fifteen," she says, her brow knitting faintly as if trying to pin the memory down. "Dark hair… quick."
"And the purse—" She hesitates, glancing down as though measuring it in her mind before lifting her hands to show him, which proves more complicated than it should be given how she’s draped around him. Her arm remains looped at his shoulders, forcing her to lean in further as she brings her other hand up, shaping the size between them, the movement drawing her closer against him in a way that feels incidental rather than deliberate. "Just tan, with a little golden clasp," she adds softly. "About this big."
Her hands fall away again, settling back against him as the effort seems to take something out of her, her shoulders dipping slightly as she exhales. "It wasn’t much," she admits, her voice thinning just a touch, "but it had all the money I had in it." Her gaze lifts once more, open and faintly strained, her mouth softening at the edges as she looks at him. [asy]"I can’t even pay for the smoothie."
A sigh follows, low and drawn, not dramatic but weighted just enough to suggest something quietly disappointed beneath it, her lashes lowering before she looks back at him, that same softness returning with a faint tilt of her head. "It’s a shame," she adds, almost absently, though the words land with intention all the same, "I was really hoping Torchline would work out, but I guess the rumours about this place are true."
Her eyes settle on him again as he brushes off her gratitude, and this time there is something slower in it, something that lingers just a breath longer than politeness requires, the faintest pull of something deeper threading through the look as her lips curve. "Well," she says, her tone light but warm, "I’m glad it was you, then." The words slip easily into place, and she lets them stay there, watching how they land before she shifts faintly in his arms, a small adjustment that presses her closer without ever seeming to try.
At the mention of the smoothie stand she nods, the movement subtle but felt, her weight settling more comfortably against him as though she’s already decided to trust where he takes her, as if he's the sort of man who exudes trustworthiness. When Kaisel gives his name, she repeats it slowly, tasting the shape of it, letting it roll across her tongue with a softness that lingers just slightly at the edges. "Kaisel…" she hums, a faint smile touching her lips as her gaze lifts to meet his again. "It’s nice to meet you."
His question pulls her attention just enough to shift the moment naturally, her expression flickering with a small crease of thought before she answers. "He couldn’t have been more than fourteen, maybe fifteen," she says, her brow knitting faintly as if trying to pin the memory down. "Dark hair… quick."
"And the purse—" She hesitates, glancing down as though measuring it in her mind before lifting her hands to show him, which proves more complicated than it should be given how she’s draped around him. Her arm remains looped at his shoulders, forcing her to lean in further as she brings her other hand up, shaping the size between them, the movement drawing her closer against him in a way that feels incidental rather than deliberate. "Just tan, with a little golden clasp," she adds softly. "About this big."
Her hands fall away again, settling back against him as the effort seems to take something out of her, her shoulders dipping slightly as she exhales. "It wasn’t much," she admits, her voice thinning just a touch, "but it had all the money I had in it." Her gaze lifts once more, open and faintly strained, her mouth softening at the edges as she looks at him. [asy]"I can’t even pay for the smoothie."
'cause i'd drink up the look on your face
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
