The problem with the world is that everyone is a few drinks behind
She chuckles. ”It is definitely not part of a fairytale, but then again, neither am I,” she says, not sounding particularly displeased at this fact. ”Well, not unless I am the villain.” She would feed you the poisoned apple, would prove to be the dragon in disguise. ”Oh, if you did deserve it, odds are you would deserve something worse than having a blood feather plucked.” A knife, a scythe, fire, something equally painful but less obvious. Sometimes that was the worst. There was something cathartic about physical punishment, but it hurt a lot worse to have your heart take the beating instead.
She closes her eyes slightly as his fingers tangle into her hair, arching a bit into the touch like a cat. Though as he sticks that tongue back out, the suggestion clear, she can only laugh. She curls her nose slightly at it. ”Still weird.” Maybe really enjoyable if she couldn’t see it, but it’s an odd feature on him. Well, actually, maybe it suits him just fine. ”Also, that is terribly unfair,” she adds, a fake whine in her voice.
”Well, not yet,” she says with a sly smile, clearly teasing as she curls in closer to him. It seems unlikely she’s going to stab him, enjoying this particular night a little too much. She should care, she should go home, but ah, Weaver is a selfish creature when there are no living hearts to break. His fingers trace along her side, sending a slight shiver through her at the touch.
He shifts to give her some space, which wasn’t necessarily what she wanted, but his arms still wrap around her, the feathers turning into the bat wings again. The wings are warm, covered in a soft fur, almost as good a blanket as the actual furs. They are made better simply because they are his, and she has always preferred to sleep curled next to someone then curled in merely her own blankets.
”We are,” she agrees. ”Perhaps there are too many bad things hiding the good ones. Perhaps I’m just too drunk to think properly.” She chuckles, giving him a playful little shove with her elbow, gentle, recalling how pointy they are. She is entirely too aware of his breath against her neck, the closeness of his lips. ”But if asked, I would say it is a good life. Despite the shit.” Honestly, would she change any of it? Only the death, if she could, but that too she could live with. It made life all the sweeter.
She closes her eyes slightly as his fingers tangle into her hair, arching a bit into the touch like a cat. Though as he sticks that tongue back out, the suggestion clear, she can only laugh. She curls her nose slightly at it. ”Still weird.” Maybe really enjoyable if she couldn’t see it, but it’s an odd feature on him. Well, actually, maybe it suits him just fine. ”Also, that is terribly unfair,” she adds, a fake whine in her voice.
”Well, not yet,” she says with a sly smile, clearly teasing as she curls in closer to him. It seems unlikely she’s going to stab him, enjoying this particular night a little too much. She should care, she should go home, but ah, Weaver is a selfish creature when there are no living hearts to break. His fingers trace along her side, sending a slight shiver through her at the touch.
He shifts to give her some space, which wasn’t necessarily what she wanted, but his arms still wrap around her, the feathers turning into the bat wings again. The wings are warm, covered in a soft fur, almost as good a blanket as the actual furs. They are made better simply because they are his, and she has always preferred to sleep curled next to someone then curled in merely her own blankets.
”We are,” she agrees. ”Perhaps there are too many bad things hiding the good ones. Perhaps I’m just too drunk to think properly.” She chuckles, giving him a playful little shove with her elbow, gentle, recalling how pointy they are. She is entirely too aware of his breath against her neck, the closeness of his lips. ”But if asked, I would say it is a good life. Despite the shit.” Honestly, would she change any of it? Only the death, if she could, but that too she could live with. It made life all the sweeter.
Weaver
