neron
Something softens in Neron’s expression as he watches her unclasp her hair, the wild curls framing her face (however briefly, before she arranges it elsewhere) in a way that he finds unnecessarily endearing. ”You ought to wear it down more often,” he says, the remark directed up at the ceiling rather than to her. ”It suits you.”
He supposes it is a sort of prison, and his lips twitch in a wry smile. ”Only one rule this time though. And only one consequence, too.” Swift death - and it will be swift if he is lucky, he imagines. Turning his head to look back at her at the compliment - sudden and unexpected from Morgan of all people - Neron can’t actually remember ever being enough for anyone. And when she pricks at his interest further only to close the shutters down, he lets out a softly outraged scoff.
”How cruel,” he murmurs, adjusting his arms behind his head. ”You know that I will have to lie awake for hours now, with nothing to do but imagine what it was you could possibly want to know. Put me out of my misery, won’t you?”
He supposes it is a sort of prison, and his lips twitch in a wry smile. ”Only one rule this time though. And only one consequence, too.” Swift death - and it will be swift if he is lucky, he imagines. Turning his head to look back at her at the compliment - sudden and unexpected from Morgan of all people - Neron can’t actually remember ever being enough for anyone. And when she pricks at his interest further only to close the shutters down, he lets out a softly outraged scoff.
”How cruel,” he murmurs, adjusting his arms behind his head. ”You know that I will have to lie awake for hours now, with nothing to do but imagine what it was you could possibly want to know. Put me out of my misery, won’t you?”
lay your hand on me, one last time
