Koa
Isn't it messed up,
How I'm just dying to be him?
How I'm just dying to be him?
It seems for a moment that he's finally gotten a handle on her, and then she disappears. Not like poof, totally gone, because he can still feel her body pressed against his, still feel the tickle of her hair on his face and smell her fragrance and even taste it when part of her presses on his mouth. But none of his other senses particularly matter in the absence of sight, and the shock of Flora's vanishing act is enough to surprise him into relaxing his hold with a surprised "What th---?" and a small, unmanly yelp.
As soon as he lets go he realizes his mistake, and the danger it puts him in. His arms snap into a defensive position close against his chest; his head snaps round, looking urgently for any sign of her. "Now who's running, Flora?"
There- an imprint in the grass, maybe? The sound of shuffling feet? Whatever, he's gonna go for it. His arms sweep out, grasping for the nothing that he really hopes is the other accepted. It's probably hysterical to watch, but Koa can feel his irritation rising. It was supposed to be a great morning, and yet here he is, sexually and physically frustrated while flailing blindly at a one-time flame.
As soon as he lets go he realizes his mistake, and the danger it puts him in. His arms snap into a defensive position close against his chest; his head snaps round, looking urgently for any sign of her. "Now who's running, Flora?"
There- an imprint in the grass, maybe? The sound of shuffling feet? Whatever, he's gonna go for it. His arms sweep out, grasping for the nothing that he really hopes is the other accepted. It's probably hysterical to watch, but Koa can feel his irritation rising. It was supposed to be a great morning, and yet here he is, sexually and physically frustrated while flailing blindly at a one-time flame.
I'm just a notch in your bedpost,
but you're just a line in a song
but you're just a line in a song
