the sea speaks a little more honestly
A quirk of his lips is granted to her response, a dip of his head to her as if to cement it. Though this look in particular he finds incredibly flattering on her. Stunning, brilliant, hidden away enough to keep wondering yet craving to find out. But that’s not what he’s here for, at least not that he thinks. He does know she’s quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, stunned by it each time when not surrounded by the shadow of grief.
But her hand continues to trail along his chest now before she leaves to stand in front of a window, and he turns enough to watch her reach it — steel eyes flitting to the window. A quiet hum from his throat is granted in acknowledgement, of wanting to be more but not quite figuring out how to go about it. Unless she needed him, the only way his compass pointed nowadays.
So he walks toward her, crossing the gap to stand beside her when she looks over her shoulder at him, a wider smile hinting at a smirk that crosses his features as he dips his head once more in agreement. “A reward is hardly that if not worked for.” He offers her, lifting his head to tilt it a small amount back to her, gaze unable to leave her face when the lightning cracks and her beauty is illuminated again. And faintly he can recall the electrifying feeling of her lips on his when he attuned, swallowing those thoughts down to offer up something else. “If it’s something you need or want. I’m always willing to work for you.” He’d done everything he could to get the shrine completed, to share her name with those around.
As of late, she’s been his only constant. His North Star for the compasses tattooed to his skin.
But her hand continues to trail along his chest now before she leaves to stand in front of a window, and he turns enough to watch her reach it — steel eyes flitting to the window. A quiet hum from his throat is granted in acknowledgement, of wanting to be more but not quite figuring out how to go about it. Unless she needed him, the only way his compass pointed nowadays.
So he walks toward her, crossing the gap to stand beside her when she looks over her shoulder at him, a wider smile hinting at a smirk that crosses his features as he dips his head once more in agreement. “A reward is hardly that if not worked for.” He offers her, lifting his head to tilt it a small amount back to her, gaze unable to leave her face when the lightning cracks and her beauty is illuminated again. And faintly he can recall the electrifying feeling of her lips on his when he attuned, swallowing those thoughts down to offer up something else. “If it’s something you need or want. I’m always willing to work for you.” He’d done everything he could to get the shrine completed, to share her name with those around.
As of late, she’s been his only constant. His North Star for the compasses tattooed to his skin.
to those who are willing to drown
SUNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
