Seraphina
the artificer
i'm not a slave, i won't be guided to a grave in
a masquerade, you'll hide your face
a masquerade, you'll hide your face
“I’d like that.” She hums to him, already trying to pick the elusive secluded location as they make their way to her apartment. His honesty with his answer for not dancing does earn him a softer edge to her smile, a hum of a soft sound leaving her throat. “Perhaps you just need a teacher?” She suggests, her gaze lingering on his body just a bit longer before it travels up to his face.
But then they’re inside and the door is locked and she’s tugging him along with her toward the sprawling bedroom with cushions and pillows and comfort, toward a decently sized bathroom with a walk in shower connected to a nicely sized bathtub. She turns to him, kicking off her heels as his question is aired and the smirk she gives him is gentle as much as it is equally excited. “You don’t have to. I take something for it.” How else would she be able to do this so much without it? A child wasn’t in her very near future at the very least.
Once her shoes are kicked off, and hopefully his too, she turns on the shower and turns back to him, stepping closer and letting her hands trail across his chest to his neck, before her arms loop around him and she presses herself against him, should he let her. “A little help?” She asks sweetly, gently, the curve of her body accentuated by the cut of the blouse and the skirt she wears.
But then they’re inside and the door is locked and she’s tugging him along with her toward the sprawling bedroom with cushions and pillows and comfort, toward a decently sized bathroom with a walk in shower connected to a nicely sized bathtub. She turns to him, kicking off her heels as his question is aired and the smirk she gives him is gentle as much as it is equally excited. “You don’t have to. I take something for it.” How else would she be able to do this so much without it? A child wasn’t in her very near future at the very least.
Once her shoes are kicked off, and hopefully his too, she turns on the shower and turns back to him, stepping closer and letting her hands trail across his chest to his neck, before her arms loop around him and she presses herself against him, should he let her. “A little help?” She asks sweetly, gently, the curve of her body accentuated by the cut of the blouse and the skirt she wears.
you got it out for me, like strangers in the night
holding close their sharpened knives
holding close their sharpened knives
