// i saw the walls, finished and plain //
It isn’t his intention to drive the bartender into a state of panic and dread, though apparently the courtesan is very good at it. Instead, Thorn pretends like everything is relatively normal. Like Casimir hadn’t kissed him and fled like his lips were poison, and that Thorn hadn’t been there the next day to prove that he did want to still see that stubborn glint in Casimir’s eye. It’s precisely what he wanted and what he gets as he looks up at the bartender, courting fire with the closeness of their bodies and how despite his exhaustion, he wants to curl up in the bartender’s lap like a cat and sleep till morning.
Or at least until he felt like he could function again.
For now, though, all he gets is the grunt of go shower, that comes out like an order – much to Thorn’s surprise. He doesn’t show it on his face, just huffs a soft sound like a tired laugh and withdraws from Casimir’s warm, inviting body that had become a makeshift pillow. “You gonna be here when I’m done or should I say my goodbye’s now?” He asks, raising a brow over at the man as he stands, stretches, and unintentionally gives Casimir a show of the vine tattoos that line his torso and disappear beneath the waistband of his pants to gods knew where.
He steps over to the edge of the bathroom but doesn’t slip into it yet, looking back at Casimir to wait for an answer because somehow he anticipates he won’t get a verbal one.
Or at least until he felt like he could function again.
For now, though, all he gets is the grunt of go shower, that comes out like an order – much to Thorn’s surprise. He doesn’t show it on his face, just huffs a soft sound like a tired laugh and withdraws from Casimir’s warm, inviting body that had become a makeshift pillow. “You gonna be here when I’m done or should I say my goodbye’s now?” He asks, raising a brow over at the man as he stands, stretches, and unintentionally gives Casimir a show of the vine tattoos that line his torso and disappear beneath the waistband of his pants to gods knew where.
He steps over to the edge of the bathroom but doesn’t slip into it yet, looking back at Casimir to wait for an answer because somehow he anticipates he won’t get a verbal one.
Hawthorn
// lavender blooms on the ink of my name //
