I could take all that you love
We could get down fading numb
We could get down fading numb
Normal as fangs used to be in her life, for a moment she overlooks them in his smirking mouth. When they register all the same, Hotaru huffs a laugh, tucking an errant strand of golden hair back behind her hear from where the wind had tugged it free of her fur-lined hood. It truly is a shame that her spa is useless to the Ascended as a whole, and while it's not in her power to change that it feels like a challenge to undertake all the same. "There can be comfort in old habits," is her rebuttal, though her expression is warm and teasing. Whether the motions of holding and drinking from a cup will bring him any peace is up to him.
Instead of directly answering him, Hotaru shamelessly sidles up to pass by him, the arm of her coat brushing against him as she goes to unlock the door and step halfway inside. Only then throwing back her hood and pulling out her long hair, gesturing him inside with a playful wiggle of her fingers. "Conversation with a handsome, mysterious stranger? What a burden." Stepping all the way inside, she waits for him to cross the threshold before closing the door and divesting her coat to hang on the rack in the entryway. As always, her chest aches as she toes off her shoes, recalling Nate's rules back home - no, not home, not anymore - and she turns away towards the fireplace as if keeping the shoe rack itself out of sight is the key to ignoring her pain.
Even from a distance, her lightning is masterfully controlled enough to light the fire, and with a snap of her fingers to generate the spark of static Hotaru sends an arc of it towards the wood in the basin, setting it ablaze in an instant. So she likes to show off a little, sue her. "Pick a seat," she insists with a catlike smile curling the edges of her wind-reddened lips. "You can start asking your questions while I make some tea." Regardless of whether he wants any himself, Hotaru habitually unwinds with it herself, and if she's going to be doing a lot of talking she'd prefer a little natural lubrication. For her voice, of course.
Instead of directly answering him, Hotaru shamelessly sidles up to pass by him, the arm of her coat brushing against him as she goes to unlock the door and step halfway inside. Only then throwing back her hood and pulling out her long hair, gesturing him inside with a playful wiggle of her fingers. "Conversation with a handsome, mysterious stranger? What a burden." Stepping all the way inside, she waits for him to cross the threshold before closing the door and divesting her coat to hang on the rack in the entryway. As always, her chest aches as she toes off her shoes, recalling Nate's rules back home - no, not home, not anymore - and she turns away towards the fireplace as if keeping the shoe rack itself out of sight is the key to ignoring her pain.
Even from a distance, her lightning is masterfully controlled enough to light the fire, and with a snap of her fingers to generate the spark of static Hotaru sends an arc of it towards the wood in the basin, setting it ablaze in an instant. So she likes to show off a little, sue her. "Pick a seat," she insists with a catlike smile curling the edges of her wind-reddened lips. "You can start asking your questions while I make some tea." Regardless of whether he wants any himself, Hotaru habitually unwinds with it herself, and if she's going to be doing a lot of talking she'd prefer a little natural lubrication. For her voice, of course.
Gasoline kiss on my lips
Tell yourself you know it's me
Tell yourself you know it's me
