why icarus thought he'd find his place a little higher
One of those voices that is begging Bassian to not dance is Calypso’s herself. Only when she’s sure that the man won’t steal ruin the show, does the attuned drift away – searching for another drink and passing by her father with a golden grin and a raise of her glass in a toast to Jack. She lingers briefly by the braziers, seeking out the heat they offer and the way the firelight plays off the snow and the glittery waves.
Flushed from the alcohol and the slight chill, she tugs her sweater around her tighter – a black one with golden yellow stripes, large and warm and with her hair down to try and retain some of the warmth she can. It’s a quick break for her to get some air before she dives back into the party, joining in on the shanty.
Flushed from the alcohol and the slight chill, she tugs her sweater around her tighter – a black one with golden yellow stripes, large and warm and with her hair down to try and retain some of the warmth she can. It’s a quick break for her to get some air before she dives back into the party, joining in on the shanty.
Calypso
it's curious, the flame of the fire
