MILO
this is for the snakes and the people they bite
for the friends i've made, for the sleepless nights
for the friends i've made, for the sleepless nights
He still simmers beneath the confusion, honeyed eyes focusing on her face as she pulls back too and apologizes, which only adds more confusion to the smuggler. But he reaches out, that hand still at her shoulder, fingers twitching as he considers it before following through with flattening out, to run along her arm, a silent understanding, as much as he tries to.
But she continues, and it resonates – really resonates, and the confusion melds away to understanding, even m ore so as she lifts her chin and runs her fingers through his fiery hair, Milo simply along for the ride of whatever she decided to do. It seems she’s made up her mind, however, as she searches his face and would likely find nothing but the glimmering bit of understanding, confusion that melds away, and the darkened lust that lingers within. “I don’t wanna run either.” He responds, gruffly, that hand that had been at her shoulder and arm lifting to her neck while the other one props him up on an elbow.
He uses it to lean in and kiss her again, pulling her back with him so that the blanket drapes more over them, that his skin touches the sand from where she’d lifted his shirt. His own hands roaming now to her own, to run his fingertips along her skin again, to lift her shirt up too so that they might be skin to skin, a burning warmth beneath the threadbare blanket and the cool night overhead.
But she continues, and it resonates – really resonates, and the confusion melds away to understanding, even m ore so as she lifts her chin and runs her fingers through his fiery hair, Milo simply along for the ride of whatever she decided to do. It seems she’s made up her mind, however, as she searches his face and would likely find nothing but the glimmering bit of understanding, confusion that melds away, and the darkened lust that lingers within. “I don’t wanna run either.” He responds, gruffly, that hand that had been at her shoulder and arm lifting to her neck while the other one props him up on an elbow.
He uses it to lean in and kiss her again, pulling her back with him so that the blanket drapes more over them, that his skin touches the sand from where she’d lifted his shirt. His own hands roaming now to her own, to run his fingertips along her skin again, to lift her shirt up too so that they might be skin to skin, a burning warmth beneath the threadbare blanket and the cool night overhead.
for the warning signs i've completely ignored
there's an amount to take, reasons to take more
there's an amount to take, reasons to take more
