Weaver
So precious is this life, this gift,
this temporary blindness.
this temporary blindness.
He begins to list some of her better qualities, and not the ones she jokingly calls her better qualities. Though she wears a smile of fake preening, there is something genuine in there. Not simply because someone is singing her praises (though that helps), but more because he is the one doing it. ”I do sound kind of wonderful, don’t I?” This, at least, is purely teasing. She has a pretty big ego, but it’s not out of control at least. ”And maybe just a little difficult.” That is true.
She chuckles as he messes up his hair on purpose, and honestly, she doesn’t mind the look on him. The secret really is just to own whatever look you want to own, and it often works out. ”Would you prefer I tell you you look like a hot mess?” she asks, reaching out just to ruffle his hair a little more, not that it really needs the help.
”In what world would I ever actually charge you for a drink anyway?” she says, a bit more seriously. She can’t quite imagine asking him for anything just for a drink, when he gave so much so freely. Including helping her brother and giving him a job. ”As for a lot of me, well...if I keep insulting your medicine will you continue to up the charge? Because I don’t really mind.”
As he kisses her, a soft sigh of contentment escapes her, and as he opens his mouth, she lets her tongue slip in to meet his own. He tastes of cider and desire, and it feels like taking a breath of beautiful, crisp, clean air. Her fingers slip into his hair at the base of his neck, tangling in the slightly too-long locks. No, she really doesn’t mind.
He hops down from the counter to come stand before her, and she spreads her legs to make space for him, though there is nothing suggestive about that particular gesture. It is merely to let him come closer so she can reach her arms up and drape them over his shoulders. ”You will likely ruin any reputation by hanging out so much with me,” she teases, though perhaps that would actually work the other way around. Oh, what would her brother say? Ah well, good thing Weaver never has cared much for the opinions of others.
”You are kind,” she says, leaning forward to nip at his earlobe, voice soft. ”You are funny,” she says, placing a kiss beneath his ear. ”You are dedicated,” Another kiss, lower on his neck. ”And determined.” A kiss on his collarbone. She looks back up, resting her forehead to his. ”You care with everything you are.”
She chuckles as he messes up his hair on purpose, and honestly, she doesn’t mind the look on him. The secret really is just to own whatever look you want to own, and it often works out. ”Would you prefer I tell you you look like a hot mess?” she asks, reaching out just to ruffle his hair a little more, not that it really needs the help.
”In what world would I ever actually charge you for a drink anyway?” she says, a bit more seriously. She can’t quite imagine asking him for anything just for a drink, when he gave so much so freely. Including helping her brother and giving him a job. ”As for a lot of me, well...if I keep insulting your medicine will you continue to up the charge? Because I don’t really mind.”
As he kisses her, a soft sigh of contentment escapes her, and as he opens his mouth, she lets her tongue slip in to meet his own. He tastes of cider and desire, and it feels like taking a breath of beautiful, crisp, clean air. Her fingers slip into his hair at the base of his neck, tangling in the slightly too-long locks. No, she really doesn’t mind.
He hops down from the counter to come stand before her, and she spreads her legs to make space for him, though there is nothing suggestive about that particular gesture. It is merely to let him come closer so she can reach her arms up and drape them over his shoulders. ”You will likely ruin any reputation by hanging out so much with me,” she teases, though perhaps that would actually work the other way around. Oh, what would her brother say? Ah well, good thing Weaver never has cared much for the opinions of others.
”You are kind,” she says, leaning forward to nip at his earlobe, voice soft. ”You are funny,” she says, placing a kiss beneath his ear. ”You are dedicated,” Another kiss, lower on his neck. ”And determined.” A kiss on his collarbone. She looks back up, resting her forehead to his. ”You care with everything you are.”
Burn and drown and embrace the false dark,
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
