Maeve
You must have seen her
dancing in the sand
dancing in the sand
The muscles in her jaw feathered as she looked straight ahead once more, trying hard to swallow down the sudden swell of irritation in her throat. The Madame took a breath, "Oh? Consent isn't a word that means anything to you then? Aren't you an absolute delight." She drawled, not bothering to temper down her tone, letting her words lash out sharply at him while somehow maintaining a cool superiority. Her eyes flicked up towards where the dragon was perched, billowing smoke from the corners of her mouth with narrowed eyes. Not one to be intimidated, she lifted her chin defiantly, intent to ignore the both of them.
Except he spoke again, his words slipping down her spine much like tar, viscous and thick enough to make her skin crawl. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, teeth clenched so hard she thought she might break a tooth. Normally it wouldn't bother her. She wasn't ashamed of her body. Not even close. People looked at her all the time. It was how he said it that had her on edge. The feeling of his eyes running over her bare skin. There was plenty of it on display. Pale and smooth, a few beauty marks marring her otherwise unblemished skin. The shorts she wore did nothing to hide her legs and the tank top was sheer at best, tied up just beneath her breasts as to not impair her movements. She felt she might as well been nude for the way his eyes roved across her from head to toe, cataloguing every breath, twitch, and shift.
"What could a Neanderthal like you know about ballet?" Maeve snapped, not giving any weight to his comment on her form. The routine she was executing was flawless. There was nothing to be desired for corrections. Even still, she went deeper into her plies, stretching out the muscles of her inner thighs. Finally, she stopped, straightening up and turning to face him full on. Her cheeks were flushed prettily and wisps of hair falling from the messy bun her dark curls were thrown up in. Green eyes blazed as her jaw set and she looked up at him, unimpressed.
Except he spoke again, his words slipping down her spine much like tar, viscous and thick enough to make her skin crawl. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, teeth clenched so hard she thought she might break a tooth. Normally it wouldn't bother her. She wasn't ashamed of her body. Not even close. People looked at her all the time. It was how he said it that had her on edge. The feeling of his eyes running over her bare skin. There was plenty of it on display. Pale and smooth, a few beauty marks marring her otherwise unblemished skin. The shorts she wore did nothing to hide her legs and the tank top was sheer at best, tied up just beneath her breasts as to not impair her movements. She felt she might as well been nude for the way his eyes roved across her from head to toe, cataloguing every breath, twitch, and shift.
"What could a Neanderthal like you know about ballet?" Maeve snapped, not giving any weight to his comment on her form. The routine she was executing was flawless. There was nothing to be desired for corrections. Even still, she went deeper into her plies, stretching out the muscles of her inner thighs. Finally, she stopped, straightening up and turning to face him full on. Her cheeks were flushed prettily and wisps of hair falling from the messy bun her dark curls were thrown up in. Green eyes blazed as her jaw set and she looked up at him, unimpressed.
And now she’s in me always with me
Tiny dancer in my hand
Tiny dancer in my hand
Code stolen from and fixed by Sky!
