WESSEX
the wraith
she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
They’re such an unlikely pairing. Any fly on the wall is likely to get an unusual show - not that the Wraith is complaining, or even thinking about such things right now. No, her mind has been thoroughly overwhelmed by Frey’s magic, and the answer to Sunjata’s question should be obvious. “Touch me,” she commands of her fellow demigod, for there are things that have lain dormant under her skin since ascension and she would have him awaken them.
And if there’s a flicker in the corner of her eye? Fuck it. Let whomever’s in the random, spooky house play voyeur for a little bit. Everyone here's just a little bit kinky, right? Maybe it’ll give ghostly hands something to do other than slam against windows.
Wessex reaches for the back of Jata's head, trying to bring his lips to hers, while the unspoken, but not-so-subtle kiss me, leaps out of her eyes. Her hips wander towards him, thrust out from the wall in an attemp to find friction or warmth, something to press against and affirm that he’s there, that he wants her too.
And if there’s a flicker in the corner of her eye? Fuck it. Let whomever’s in the random, spooky house play voyeur for a little bit. Everyone here's just a little bit kinky, right? Maybe it’ll give ghostly hands something to do other than slam against windows.
Wessex reaches for the back of Jata's head, trying to bring his lips to hers, while the unspoken, but not-so-subtle kiss me, leaps out of her eyes. Her hips wander towards him, thrust out from the wall in an attemp to find friction or warmth, something to press against and affirm that he’s there, that he wants her too.
and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah
the hallelujah