and it burns like a gin and i like it
The man took his time in his assessment, though she was aware he'd had an answer from the get go. He didn't phrase the answer in a question, but a statement, and it was an answer she needn't correct. A visitor, a refugee, a whatever. A grounder; her mind had landed there, the place she'd scorned for so long until she'd left. Now she anxiously awaited the doorway back.
Another humph to his next question, she took another draw on her cigarette, "I haven't decided yet, it's pretty. Not sure if it's for me but..." she replied, leaving the subject rather ambiguous.
Another humph to his next question, she took another draw on her cigarette, "I haven't decided yet, it's pretty. Not sure if it's for me but..." she replied, leaving the subject rather ambiguous.
put your lips on my skin and you might ignite it
AISHA
