on the low, i get vertigo from body overdose
The breeze isn’t as much of a distraction as he’d hoped it would be – a distraction to keep away the rush of heat still coursing through his cheeks and coloring them. Only this time he hopes he can claim they’re wind chapped and dry from the cold. He doubts he’ll be that lucky, but he supposes it’s a perk that the guy he’s asked to get dinner with him hardly speaks int eh first place. He can pretend it isn’t there as much as he knows Casimir won’t say a damn thing about it.
So Thorn purrs his question over toward Casimir with a grin, met with narrow irritation, and Thorn doesn’t know him well enough yet to see the spark of amusement underneath the façade. “Nah, prolly not, huh?” He purses his lips as the sign post comes into view, one hand withdrawing from the warm confines of his pocket to snap in front of him like he’s trying to remember what else they sell. “Lasagna, though. I think that’s your speed.” Less wiggly noodles looking like snakes and more like the brick wall that Casimir tended to be.
It’s while he’s thinking that he realizes Cas has picked up his pace, leaving Thorn behind. And while he isn’t blessed with the long legs the other man has, he’s blessed with the agility to help him keep up without even becoming breathless.Apparently it takes Casimir pinning him somewhere for the courtesan to really, truly lose the air from his lungs.
Picking up his own pace, Thorn barks a laugh and closes the distance, trying to bypass him in this little race. “Yeah, yeah, long legs.” Thorn touts, reaching out for the signpost to grab and take them to the New Haven signpost. And in the split second before it zips him away, Thorn manages to reach it, spinning around it with absolute delight in his seafoam gaze when he looks back to Casimir and sticks his tongue out at him.
In New Haven, the weather is just as biting but there’s people milling around, and Thorn waits for Casimir to appear for him to continue their little one sided conversation. “They ever start callin’ you that after y’got your spider shift? Or was I the first one t’be that creative?” Bouncing his brows, he turns on the heel of his boot to guide Cas toward the pasta restaurant.
So Thorn purrs his question over toward Casimir with a grin, met with narrow irritation, and Thorn doesn’t know him well enough yet to see the spark of amusement underneath the façade. “Nah, prolly not, huh?” He purses his lips as the sign post comes into view, one hand withdrawing from the warm confines of his pocket to snap in front of him like he’s trying to remember what else they sell. “Lasagna, though. I think that’s your speed.” Less wiggly noodles looking like snakes and more like the brick wall that Casimir tended to be.
It’s while he’s thinking that he realizes Cas has picked up his pace, leaving Thorn behind. And while he isn’t blessed with the long legs the other man has, he’s blessed with the agility to help him keep up without even becoming breathless.
Picking up his own pace, Thorn barks a laugh and closes the distance, trying to bypass him in this little race. “Yeah, yeah, long legs.” Thorn touts, reaching out for the signpost to grab and take them to the New Haven signpost. And in the split second before it zips him away, Thorn manages to reach it, spinning around it with absolute delight in his seafoam gaze when he looks back to Casimir and sticks his tongue out at him.
In New Haven, the weather is just as biting but there’s people milling around, and Thorn waits for Casimir to appear for him to continue their little one sided conversation. “They ever start callin’ you that after y’got your spider shift? Or was I the first one t’be that creative?” Bouncing his brows, he turns on the heel of his boot to guide Cas toward the pasta restaurant.
Hawthorn
so tell me your name and tell me your problems, i got the same
