and it burns like a gin and i like it
Footsteps drew her attention from the bay of ships and their billowing sails, her golden hazel gaze came to rest on a man and his fire. It flickered to life, snapping into existence and singing the edges of his cigarette, which now pulsed it's own molten ember heart. "I know," came her response, eyes narrowed and analytical, for this new company was far more intriguing than any party on the beach.
She leaned forward against the rails of the dock, glancing back to him and the blues around his eyes, on his cheek. There was a story in the discoloration, and the leopardess loved stories. She remained leaning but turned to face him, chin tilted just a bit and a slight smirk at her lips, "Have another?" she said, holding her hand up with two fingers together, mimicking the way one holds a cigarette.
She leaned forward against the rails of the dock, glancing back to him and the blues around his eyes, on his cheek. There was a story in the discoloration, and the leopardess loved stories. She remained leaning but turned to face him, chin tilted just a bit and a slight smirk at her lips, "Have another?" she said, holding her hand up with two fingers together, mimicking the way one holds a cigarette.
put your lips on my skin and you might ignite it
AISHA
