wear the moon like a halo

Maeve

There is so much to look at. So much to take in. While Sunjata might not look at her because he's trying desperately to keep some distance between them. She already knows from the night that they met he's interested. That he would have her if it wasn't for everything going on in his life. Maeve, on the other hand, has no such qualms. She looks, eyes raking over his skin. Maeve takes in all of his scars, tattoos, muscle, and skin. She wants to explore those scars. Trace her fingers over them just like she did with the one on his hand. That isn't on the table and she's not sure if it ever will be.

He rolls his eyes at her. He teases and she's glad for it. Maeve huffs, rolling her eyes right back as she follows after him, "Yeah. We are, dear Flood." She retorts, shaking her head as she speeds up her steps, feet slipping in that powdery white sand that makes up their shores. The water is cold as it washes over her feet and she only pauses for a second before pushing further into the waves. Goosebumps rise over her skin and by the time she gets up to her calves, she is sufficiently cooled down.

Maeve watches him stride forward confidently. As if the waves are his second home. Her steps don't falter yet. Even as the water rises to her hips and she swallows thickly, dunking her hands under the surface so he doesn't seem them trembling. Maeve stops when the waves slosh around her waist, drawing in a shaky breath.

These violent delights
Have violent ends