why icarus thought he'd find his place a little higher
Her smile only grows more sunny to hear his compliments, and it has her more than willing to slip her hand into his. She’s warm, thanks to the alcohol and the warmth of the flames around them. “Ain’t you a sweet talker.” She purrs, vibrant and bright under his attention. Ah, but then he’s introducing himself and the name rings somewhere deep in the stretches of her mind, her smile blooming a touch more mischievous.
“Pleasure’s mine. I’m Calypso Marin.” She tugs his hand a little closer to her to close some of the distance – always bold and daring. “Friends call me Caly.” This close, though, he could probably see the way her amber gaze sizes him up, amusement briefly there in her face. “You’re the writer, right? I loveeeeee your books.”
“Pleasure’s mine. I’m Calypso Marin.” She tugs his hand a little closer to her to close some of the distance – always bold and daring. “Friends call me Caly.” This close, though, he could probably see the way her amber gaze sizes him up, amusement briefly there in her face. “You’re the writer, right? I loveeeeee your books.”
Calypso
it's curious, the flame of the fire
