Weaver
So precious is this life, this gift,
this temporary blindness.
this temporary blindness.
”Name one, outside of fighting and being a pain in the ass. I am definitely good at both of those things.” She is good at more too, but still, there’s so much they don’t know about each other, and so much they maybe don’t realize they know. She is curious what else he might have picked up about her.
She chuckles slightly, her smile feline and sly. ”You are kind of lucky, aren’t you?” Her voice is teasing, because she’ll never admit that maybe she got a little lucky too. Well, maybe she will, but not yet.
She nods. ”As I said, perhaps I have become my mask. Though maybe it would have been more accurate to say my mask has become me. Either way.” She leans into the touch, her eyelids closing slightly before exhaling a breath, looking into his eyes again. ”It makes me feel so weak. There is nothing wrong with it, I know. I have told you as much in your own life. And yet I hate it when it’s me.” Well, if he wants to know her, she will divulge some secrets.
She chuckles though as he asks for suggestions. ”I admit, I do not have any good ones, though I will ponder it for you.” After all, what use has she ever had to think of other last names? She has never seriously dated anyone, has never seriously thought of leaving Korbin in that way. Weaver has never been the kind of girl who stuck her name next to some boy’s last name to figure out if it sounded good. Besides, Hale was a good last name, and she was rather fond of it.
But then he’s against her, and she doesn’t care about last names. Not his, not hers. It seems very irrelevant. He scoops her up with ease, though she isn’t surprised. He may not be traditionally muscular, but she has seen what he can do and has felt the muscles beneath his skin in at least some places (though she would be more than happy to discover them all). Her legs find purchase on his hips, and she holds herself against him, opening her lips as she feels his tongue. She is his to explore, as she explores him in return.
She chuckles slightly, her smile feline and sly. ”You are kind of lucky, aren’t you?” Her voice is teasing, because she’ll never admit that maybe she got a little lucky too. Well, maybe she will, but not yet.
She nods. ”As I said, perhaps I have become my mask. Though maybe it would have been more accurate to say my mask has become me. Either way.” She leans into the touch, her eyelids closing slightly before exhaling a breath, looking into his eyes again. ”It makes me feel so weak. There is nothing wrong with it, I know. I have told you as much in your own life. And yet I hate it when it’s me.” Well, if he wants to know her, she will divulge some secrets.
She chuckles though as he asks for suggestions. ”I admit, I do not have any good ones, though I will ponder it for you.” After all, what use has she ever had to think of other last names? She has never seriously dated anyone, has never seriously thought of leaving Korbin in that way. Weaver has never been the kind of girl who stuck her name next to some boy’s last name to figure out if it sounded good. Besides, Hale was a good last name, and she was rather fond of it.
But then he’s against her, and she doesn’t care about last names. Not his, not hers. It seems very irrelevant. He scoops her up with ease, though she isn’t surprised. He may not be traditionally muscular, but she has seen what he can do and has felt the muscles beneath his skin in at least some places (though she would be more than happy to discover them all). Her legs find purchase on his hips, and she holds herself against him, opening her lips as she feels his tongue. She is his to explore, as she explores him in return.
Burn and drown and embrace the false dark,
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
