I get them all worked up and down on their knees, you see
Maeve rolls her eyes at him, even going so far as to stick out her tongue, managing to find her sass despite her discomfort, "Alright, smart ass. Why don't you pay attention to the task at hand, yeah?" She shoots back, shaking her head at him, but remaining still otherwise, knowing better than to fidget too much lest she wanted it to take longer. The stinging slowly subsides as does the bleeding, no longer soaking through the gauze that he holds against her skin as it starts to clot on its own.
"Is that your way of asking for the stories? I promise they aren't all that exciting." She says with a soft laugh, shifting to get more comfortable as he tends to her hand, dabbing gently at the cuts on her knuckles. Maeve arches her own brow to match his, head cocking to the side, "You know, I don't think we ever really talked that much about your scars. I know how you got some of them and saw you get one of them, but they never really came up." Likely because they were trying to distract him from those things. The physical and emotional scars that people so easily left behind on his person hadn't been something either of them wanted to dwell on.
She hums softly, a smirk curling on her lips as she meets his steel gaze with her own sea glass eyes, "Well that's just the rule isn't it? Not allowed to have scars unless they come with trauma." Maeve quips, another laugh bubbling up in her chest as she starts to dress her hand. She lifts her opposite hand, flashing him her wrist where there are a myriad of silvery marks that are clearly bites from Ascended, "This is where my callers are allowed to bite. They're all just muddled together at this point, but it's easier that way." Next she tilts her head to the side, drawing the few wisps of hair that have come loose from her bun away from her throat, "This one is from Adam." She trails a finger just below the other set of scars that he left behind from their time together before she points to the faint scar towards her right temple that's usually hidden beneath curls.
"This one happened when I was up by Wishtide. Some of the vines wrapped around my ankle and pulled me into the water. Hit my head on a rock. That was right before the Wilds decided to spit me out in the fucking Feverlands in a literal pit of tar. Don't think I told you about that either." A faint smile curls on her lips as she wiggles her fingers of the hand he's currently doctoring, "And if I get a scar from this... You know how it happened already."
"Is that your way of asking for the stories? I promise they aren't all that exciting." She says with a soft laugh, shifting to get more comfortable as he tends to her hand, dabbing gently at the cuts on her knuckles. Maeve arches her own brow to match his, head cocking to the side, "You know, I don't think we ever really talked that much about your scars. I know how you got some of them and saw you get one of them, but they never really came up." Likely because they were trying to distract him from those things. The physical and emotional scars that people so easily left behind on his person hadn't been something either of them wanted to dwell on.
She hums softly, a smirk curling on her lips as she meets his steel gaze with her own sea glass eyes, "Well that's just the rule isn't it? Not allowed to have scars unless they come with trauma." Maeve quips, another laugh bubbling up in her chest as she starts to dress her hand. She lifts her opposite hand, flashing him her wrist where there are a myriad of silvery marks that are clearly bites from Ascended, "This is where my callers are allowed to bite. They're all just muddled together at this point, but it's easier that way." Next she tilts her head to the side, drawing the few wisps of hair that have come loose from her bun away from her throat, "This one is from Adam." She trails a finger just below the other set of scars that he left behind from their time together before she points to the faint scar towards her right temple that's usually hidden beneath curls.
"This one happened when I was up by Wishtide. Some of the vines wrapped around my ankle and pulled me into the water. Hit my head on a rock. That was right before the Wilds decided to spit me out in the fucking Feverlands in a literal pit of tar. Don't think I told you about that either." A faint smile curls on her lips as she wiggles her fingers of the hand he's currently doctoring, "And if I get a scar from this... You know how it happened already."
They take my fingers in their mouths like it's poetry
Maeve
