on the low, i get vertigo from body overdose
The laughter warms him, too, amusement glittering in his seafoam gaze as he settles on Cas’ face. He reacts a little less sharp, a little less like he’s trying so hard to get a rise out of him in return. And Thorn thinks for a second if he looks really hard, he can see the twitch of a small smile trying to flare on the corner of his lip. It’s a double win – that Casimir had gotten to win this round but Thorn had gotten something out of it too.
And honestly, if he asked what edging was, Thorn would be happy to explainor maybe one day give an example.
Either way, the courtesan settles in his seat and watches with his glittering eyes as Cas settles, too, the leather of the booth seat creaking. His attention drops to the cross of those arms along that broad chest, the muscle he can see from beneath the other man’s sleeves. Silence overtakes them again, but it isn’t awkward. Instead, it’s almost respectful – letting Casimir ride in the victory of winning his round.
The waiter scurries over to give them their glasses of water as well before vanishing again and Thorn reaches out to snag his glass to give his hands something to work with. “You can try some’ve my pasta if y’want.” He offers out, sucking in a slow breath and nibbling on his lower lip briefly before he’s straightening up to lean back across the table, closer to Casimir with that same amusement glittering in his eyes. “But don’t get too full. Their desserts are t’die for.” He dramatically groans, quiet enough to not be heard over the din and chatter and music – a quiet performance for Casimir alone.
And honestly, if he asked what edging was, Thorn would be happy to explain
Either way, the courtesan settles in his seat and watches with his glittering eyes as Cas settles, too, the leather of the booth seat creaking. His attention drops to the cross of those arms along that broad chest, the muscle he can see from beneath the other man’s sleeves. Silence overtakes them again, but it isn’t awkward. Instead, it’s almost respectful – letting Casimir ride in the victory of winning his round.
The waiter scurries over to give them their glasses of water as well before vanishing again and Thorn reaches out to snag his glass to give his hands something to work with. “You can try some’ve my pasta if y’want.” He offers out, sucking in a slow breath and nibbling on his lower lip briefly before he’s straightening up to lean back across the table, closer to Casimir with that same amusement glittering in his eyes. “But don’t get too full. Their desserts are t’die for.” He dramatically groans, quiet enough to not be heard over the din and chatter and music – a quiet performance for Casimir alone.
Hawthorn
so tell me your name and tell me your problems, i got the same
