Hotaru
Oh a promise hm? Her delight must show in the dusky hues of the bar, wicked smile curling as if he has played right into her hand. He has, of course, but now he knows. "Promises have to be fulfilled pretty boy. Keep that in mind." And oh if she isn't looking forward to holding him to his word. She hasn't been with a non-Ascended man since Sunjata - the sharpness of that pain is dulled by the alcohol thankfully, but it's an incentive all the same. Encouraged by the way his teeth dig into the plump flesh of his lip, making her visibly shudder with delight. Focus, she tells herself, even though his scent is similarly intoxicating as she brushes against him.
He's a good partner, in game and verbal sparring alike, and her mismatched irises seem to light from within at the challenge. "Deal," she purrs boldly, and when he makes his throw she leans up onto her toes against his back, steadying herself by holding onto his hips so she can whisper right against his ear. "I don't think I've ever been so excited to see someone lose." Her laughter trails as she parts from him, sauntering past to snag another dart and leave him hopefully reeling. She is quick and precise with her next throw, scarcely lining up, eager to end this game already and reap whichever reward is given to her. It lands in the same ring as his, but to the right, scoring her fewer points. "Eighteen," she remarks, and scribbles both their points down on the supplied pad before they both inevitably forget in their drunken stupor.
He's a good partner, in game and verbal sparring alike, and her mismatched irises seem to light from within at the challenge. "Deal," she purrs boldly, and when he makes his throw she leans up onto her toes against his back, steadying herself by holding onto his hips so she can whisper right against his ear. "I don't think I've ever been so excited to see someone lose." Her laughter trails as she parts from him, sauntering past to snag another dart and leave him hopefully reeling. She is quick and precise with her next throw, scarcely lining up, eager to end this game already and reap whichever reward is given to her. It lands in the same ring as his, but to the right, scoring her fewer points. "Eighteen," she remarks, and scribbles both their points down on the supplied pad before they both inevitably forget in their drunken stupor.
She doesn't care about your words
or how you'll try and save her
or how you'll try and save her
