LOCKE
She pulls him into the nest and he's grateful for it. The fire does enough to keep him warm but he might be just shy of addicted to her skin. She curls up against his chest and he lets himself wrap around her, burying his face in her hair. She smells like lavender and faintly of leather and he wonders where she picked that up. Maybe the couch? Who knows. Either way, he kind of likes it. One hand tangles into her hair, playing with a stray lock as she speaks.
"I want it now. I want all of them, Mae. Wanna know you. Properly." He knows little things, what her favorite flower is and her favorite color. He knows how to get her off. But does that count as knowing her? He doesn't think so. He wants the big things too. The hard things. The hurtful things. He wants the happy and the angry too. He wasn't joking when he said he wanted all of her.
"I want it now. I want all of them, Mae. Wanna know you. Properly." He knows little things, what her favorite flower is and her favorite color. He knows how to get her off. But does that count as knowing her? He doesn't think so. He wants the big things too. The hard things. The hurtful things. He wants the happy and the angry too. He wasn't joking when he said he wanted all of her.
I know I was born and I know that I'll die
The in-between is mine
The in-between is mine
