Maeve
A huff of laughter bubbles out of her and she rolls her eyes at him, "The Governor, the Flood... What else do they call you I wonder?" She hums, tilting her head to gaze down at him as she licks her lips, tasting the salt there from the stray drops of water that have stuck to her skin. "So many things I could choose to croon to you." Maeve murmurs, a gentle heat simmering in the depths of her green eyes. Nothing like that first night they found themselves tangled up in each other. It's softer. Almost sweet. She likes playing this game with him. Whatever it is.
When the wave crashes against her side and partially washing over her back, she does not startle. Be it from the comfort she finds in his embrace or perhaps his calm here in the water. Maeve can't place her finger on it, but she doesn't question it. Instead grateful that the fear doesn't come to grip her chest as he supports her weight with ease. Her brow arches even as her fingers press firmly into his skin, easing any remaining tension in his body as his hand roves over her own skin. "What were you expecting? Dreary skies?" Maeve teases as her fingers slip up his neck, over the compass tattoo and teasing into his wet curls. The strands slip through her fingers easily, "I'm glad you find it pleasing enough, dear Flood."
Her words come out in a coo as she takes in a breath, stealing his exhale and letting it fill her lungs instead. Maeve cocks her head to the side, eyes dipping to his lips and then back to his eyes. That same steel gaze that seems so soft as he regards her now. Be it because of the sea or because of her, she can't tell, but she's glad it's resting on her now.
When the wave crashes against her side and partially washing over her back, she does not startle. Be it from the comfort she finds in his embrace or perhaps his calm here in the water. Maeve can't place her finger on it, but she doesn't question it. Instead grateful that the fear doesn't come to grip her chest as he supports her weight with ease. Her brow arches even as her fingers press firmly into his skin, easing any remaining tension in his body as his hand roves over her own skin. "What were you expecting? Dreary skies?" Maeve teases as her fingers slip up his neck, over the compass tattoo and teasing into his wet curls. The strands slip through her fingers easily, "I'm glad you find it pleasing enough, dear Flood."
Her words come out in a coo as she takes in a breath, stealing his exhale and letting it fill her lungs instead. Maeve cocks her head to the side, eyes dipping to his lips and then back to his eyes. That same steel gaze that seems so soft as he regards her now. Be it because of the sea or because of her, she can't tell, but she's glad it's resting on her now.
These violent delights
Have violent ends
Have violent ends
