HARPER
“I haven’t been yet, but I intend to soon. Honestly I hope it doesn’t rain at all while I’m there - I’m spoiled by Torchline weather.” His grin is boyish and crooked, flourishing in the presence of another friendly person. And a man at that. Seemed most men in Torchline felt the need to outdrink, outfight, or otherwise outdo you to prove some sort of weird toxic masculinity dominance. Harper was far too modern (and bisexual) for that nonsense.
“Perfect,” Harper hisses eagerly, and he reaches to snag at Locke’s sleeve to pull him in a jog towards the deepening puddles. Letting go only long enough to launch himself feet first into it - and immediately slip and land half on his ass and half on his back when the sand skids out from under him. A yelp escapes him as the water splashes up around him, followed immediately by laughter.
“Perfect,” Harper hisses eagerly, and he reaches to snag at Locke’s sleeve to pull him in a jog towards the deepening puddles. Letting go only long enough to launch himself feet first into it - and immediately slip and land half on his ass and half on his back when the sand skids out from under him. A yelp escapes him as the water splashes up around him, followed immediately by laughter.
caught in this reckless raging fury
that they call the love of God
that they call the love of God
