Kaisel
Haters on my back like a backpack
It surprises him a bit to hear she’s been to so many places. She seems to him like an overly sheltered girl, royalty maybe, if he had to guess, pampered and coddled often. Both could be true, he supposes, if she’d traveled from the confines of the same well guarded carriage and ship, catching only glimpses of passing scenery and calling it visiting. He wonders where her guards are now, then. ”Oh, a world traveler,” he commends, approval lightening his tone, inspiring her to be proud of her accomplishments, even if they seem so very few. This version he builds of her lines up well with her inability to remember the names of where she’d been, only the general direction. ”The Greatwood?” he ventures, thinking maybe he could jog it free of her memory.
Easily baited on the average day, especially when he’s no idea there’s a hunter afoot, Kaisel’s eyebrows climb for a moment. ”What rumors?” An easy laugh follows suit, whatever worries he briefly had dispersing with that breath. ”I will admit, there’s sand everywhere and it does stick to everything. Besides that though, yes, we’re the largest and busiest port, have the nicest weather year round, and have the cutting edge of comfort. We even have a lucky rum fountain, incredible parties, and top tier smoothies.”
Her gaze is an arresting thing, and all the easy breezy carefree nature is inclined to freeze beneath it. She is, unrepentantly gorgeous of course, but it’s more than that which tightens him whenever her eyes hold him so completely. The sea is beautiful too, but he does not respect it for beauty alone. Nothing aligns properly though, because she seems as capable as a wet piece of paper, and whatever depth he sees in the fringes of her is surely imagined. He tries to push it back with a smile, the familiar shape finding his features easy in response to her continued gratitude.
Setting her down gently, he remains crouched by the bench until he’s sure her weight is transferred and she’s settled. No sense in causing her to tumble again, although he might start to question head injuries if that’s the case. ”Just so you know,” he draws it out casually, trying not to hurt her feelings. ”I am mar—rily engaged.” The slow dawn of understanding had come on the heels of the way she said his name, the rest suddenly making sense when he’d carried her. ”I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, nothing more.” What a trope, for the damsel to fall in love with her savior. He’d have to get used to dealing with this if he continues onward and upward to heroism.
Trying to ease her into the reality that they cannot be anything more, his smiles come quick and full, and he nods attentively to her descriptions of the boy and the purse, touch lingering on her shoulder for stability in body and heart. ”Don’t worry, I’ll take care of all of it. Starting with the smoothie. Any flavor preference? I’m partial to their strawberry pineapple.” He pops up to his full height then to put in their orders, stressing her need for healing.
Easily baited on the average day, especially when he’s no idea there’s a hunter afoot, Kaisel’s eyebrows climb for a moment. ”What rumors?” An easy laugh follows suit, whatever worries he briefly had dispersing with that breath. ”I will admit, there’s sand everywhere and it does stick to everything. Besides that though, yes, we’re the largest and busiest port, have the nicest weather year round, and have the cutting edge of comfort. We even have a lucky rum fountain, incredible parties, and top tier smoothies.”
Her gaze is an arresting thing, and all the easy breezy carefree nature is inclined to freeze beneath it. She is, unrepentantly gorgeous of course, but it’s more than that which tightens him whenever her eyes hold him so completely. The sea is beautiful too, but he does not respect it for beauty alone. Nothing aligns properly though, because she seems as capable as a wet piece of paper, and whatever depth he sees in the fringes of her is surely imagined. He tries to push it back with a smile, the familiar shape finding his features easy in response to her continued gratitude.
Setting her down gently, he remains crouched by the bench until he’s sure her weight is transferred and she’s settled. No sense in causing her to tumble again, although he might start to question head injuries if that’s the case. ”Just so you know,” he draws it out casually, trying not to hurt her feelings. ”I am mar—rily engaged.” The slow dawn of understanding had come on the heels of the way she said his name, the rest suddenly making sense when he’d carried her. ”I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, nothing more.” What a trope, for the damsel to fall in love with her savior. He’d have to get used to dealing with this if he continues onward and upward to heroism.
Trying to ease her into the reality that they cannot be anything more, his smiles come quick and full, and he nods attentively to her descriptions of the boy and the purse, touch lingering on her shoulder for stability in body and heart. ”Don’t worry, I’ll take care of all of it. Starting with the smoothie. Any flavor preference? I’m partial to their strawberry pineapple.” He pops up to his full height then to put in their orders, stressing her need for healing.
Blowin' up I'm fucking flawless
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
