EVIE
I want your midnights
{cont.}Though his arms don’t drop, the best emanating from his skin is inviting enough even when paired with the long-suffering exhale of his cheeky acceptance. She doesn’t do it to torment him, but any thoughts of material items effectively dissipated the moment she had the statuesque vision of his naked form to occupy her thoughts with instead. And her hands, which slide lower to press the slight jut of his hipbones into the matching hollow spaces of her palms, like they were always meant to rest there.
Distantly she notices his command over their discarded clothing but she couldn’t care less about where they end up. The barracks are their for the evening, and any lost items could be replaced even if whoever discovered them come morning might have questions.
Reluctant to take her hands away even for the brief moment it would take to pull upon his nape, the Evergreen rises on her toes to press a lingering kiss to the line of his jaw, his beard tickling at her lips as she holds herself steady with the hands at his hips. “Kiss me,” she commands, and perhaps it would be jokingly imperious were her voice not so breathy, her tone a mere whisper. A parallel to when she’d asked him not too long ago if she could, but more certain now in where they stood with each other even without labels or names.
