I need your hand but I don't want to burn it
As Colt pares every visible reaction away, treating the whole thing like some cheap parlour trick she means to catch him performing badly, Vesper turns his gaze toward the meadow. Darkness has nearly swallowed it now, leaving only the pale wash of moonlight over the grass and the distant shapes of camp behind them, and he lets his attention rest there with an air bordering on boredom.
"One hundred and one," he murmurs as the number flashes through her thoughts, casual enough that it might have been his own idle observation. It isn’t the test she intends to give him, though, and when the real memory opens beneath it, his posture changes almost imperceptibly. The peppermint bark stills between his fingers as panic floods through her in short breaths and slippery footing, sharp enough that his brow pinches before he’s gathered any sense of what she’s running from. For an instant he wonders whether this is some old danger connected to the husband she’d left behind, the fear too immediate and bodily to dismiss, until a small red rooster marches into view with all the confidence of something that has never once questioned its dominion over her.
A startled laugh escapes him, dry but entirely genuine. Vesper tips his head, one brow climbing as he glances back toward Colt, amusement pulling crookedly at his mouth despite everything still stretched taut between them. "Never in a million years would I’ve thought you’d be scared of a damn rooster." The look he gives her when one eye opens is quieter than the laughter, warmed by the ridiculous little terror she’d chosen to show him and the younger version of herself caught inside it. "And who the hell names a chicken Nestor, anyway?"
"One hundred and one," he murmurs as the number flashes through her thoughts, casual enough that it might have been his own idle observation. It isn’t the test she intends to give him, though, and when the real memory opens beneath it, his posture changes almost imperceptibly. The peppermint bark stills between his fingers as panic floods through her in short breaths and slippery footing, sharp enough that his brow pinches before he’s gathered any sense of what she’s running from. For an instant he wonders whether this is some old danger connected to the husband she’d left behind, the fear too immediate and bodily to dismiss, until a small red rooster marches into view with all the confidence of something that has never once questioned its dominion over her.
A startled laugh escapes him, dry but entirely genuine. Vesper tips his head, one brow climbing as he glances back toward Colt, amusement pulling crookedly at his mouth despite everything still stretched taut between them. "Never in a million years would I’ve thought you’d be scared of a damn rooster." The look he gives her when one eye opens is quieter than the laughter, warmed by the ridiculous little terror she’d chosen to show him and the younger version of herself caught inside it. "And who the hell names a chicken Nestor, anyway?"
No I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
