LOCKE
Driving faster in my car
Falling farther from just what we are
Falling farther from just what we are
Locke's face screws up as he looks at her, a laugh spilling from his lips, "Fuck, Mae.." His mouth twitches before he leans down, lips just brushing against her ear, "Could be full of me too, if you wanted.." Something between a threat and a promise before he's pulling away to wash his cup out like he didn't just say that. His face is entirely too red but she walked into it and he couldn't help himself.
His cup is rinsed well enough that he doesn't feel bad for using it and he slips back towards her, his fingers trailing the edge of her arm as he passes. He covers the goodies, not wanting them to stale while they're outside. "Clothes you don't mind getting wet.. Preferably something white.." She knew what she was getting into with him, at least he hopes so. He watches as she makes her way to the chest, leaning against the counter with contented interest.
And then she's stripping his level of interest skyrockets. He makes a little noise, taking a few steps towards her before stopping himself. At first it's lust that draws him to her and then it's the sight of her bruises. He hadn't seen them yet and he winces internally. His face is screwed up with worry when she speaks again, making him meet her gaze. He takes a shaky breath before grinning at her. "He does. Probably because he is one.." Something light-hearted to distract him from the thoughts that linger in the back of his head.
Locke holds his hand out to her, "Nothing to learn. It's playing, Maeve, like kids do." What kind of childhood did she have that she doesn't even know how to play. That's pretty much a basic instinct. He doesn't bother to put his shoes back on as he tugs her towards the door. "When we're done playing, we can do somethin' you wanna do, alright?"
His cup is rinsed well enough that he doesn't feel bad for using it and he slips back towards her, his fingers trailing the edge of her arm as he passes. He covers the goodies, not wanting them to stale while they're outside. "Clothes you don't mind getting wet.. Preferably something white.." She knew what she was getting into with him, at least he hopes so. He watches as she makes her way to the chest, leaning against the counter with contented interest.
And then she's stripping his level of interest skyrockets. He makes a little noise, taking a few steps towards her before stopping himself. At first it's lust that draws him to her and then it's the sight of her bruises. He hadn't seen them yet and he winces internally. His face is screwed up with worry when she speaks again, making him meet her gaze. He takes a shaky breath before grinning at her. "He does. Probably because he is one.." Something light-hearted to distract him from the thoughts that linger in the back of his head.
Locke holds his hand out to her, "Nothing to learn. It's playing, Maeve, like kids do." What kind of childhood did she have that she doesn't even know how to play. That's pretty much a basic instinct. He doesn't bother to put his shoes back on as he tugs her towards the door. "When we're done playing, we can do somethin' you wanna do, alright?"
Smoke a cigarette and lie some more
These conversations kill
These conversations kill
