Interesting, you must be tired. I didnt think you would repeat the same location three times.
[ she would be with him soon, wouldn't she? hence, the knocks 2/3, as for the girlfriend, well. wasn't that obvious?
either way, it seems she was far closer than he initially expected, and maybe now he can even see her silhouette in the distance. he's already outside with his leather jacket on, he places his helmet against the bike's handles, and hers on the seat. he keeps his gaze away from hers, even humming a tune as he waits for her to come closer.
he feigns being busy, almost as if to see what she'll do when she closes in on him. he types a reply in the meantime. ] Oh, something you want to show me? are you telling me in hopes of building the suspense?
If so, you should know to put in the right amount of effort.
( wow. wow, sylus with the charm and sass in equal measure. she's definitely closing the distance, and when it's clear that he's feigning being busy while TEXTING HER instead of CALLING TO HER like a normal person, she stops short, and pulls up her phone to take a picture.
he's very handsome like this, typing on his phone with the dim light hitting him just right. he's a living masterpiece, all angles and shadow, ruby red and onyx, and leather looks really, really good on him.
another picture, and she's scampering over to him looking like a very smug cat that's eaten a very fat canary. or a mephisto, etc. but when she is right in his personal space, she's swiping through the apps to find the right one. as if she didn't just set him as her home screen wallpaper. )
Well, it's more like something I have to show you in person. A reel. I wanted to see if it's a thing.
[ no matter how dark it is, or how far she may have been, it's easy for him to ascertain its her. there's no room for lingering doubt, and it's not just because of mephisto, either. there's something unmistakable in how she carries herself, and he finds himself endlessly drawn to her. perhaps, that's just what it means to be kindred spirits. he mulls over this, even as each picture comes into close succession. while he's half-typed a response, it seems to fall short of the response on the tip of his tongue.
just her being within proximity is enough to whet his appetite for more, and he wants to draw her in closer. an embrace, a kiss. their fingers joined...
not unlike the way he breaches the small amount of space between them and he's already reaching to hold her hand that's so energetically is scrolling through her apps. his fingers curl over the back of hers, squeezing them gently. he leans in over her, his face close enough for his breath to brush against her ear.
his voice is deep and hushed like they're sharing some deep secret rather than a reel on moments. ] You always have suggestions worth losing sleep over, so let's see it. There's nothing I wouldn't do to satisfy your curiosity. [ ( eng va voice ) sweetie. ]
( she can taste it, that desire for touch, for proximity, to seal the distance between them because that's the most natural state of their being. she can feel her own soul resonate with his, a powerful attraction that sets her within his orbit once again.
she shifts into his hold without thinking, slipping back into his space like it's the most natural thing in the world to do. but this means she's distracted from her scrolling, the heat of his words and that low, velvety purr making her shiver. maybe this is the secret: that sylus of the n109 zone can make her pulse race with just a few words. )
You —
( her mouth goes dry. sweetie. she is so dead; he is too good at this. ) So, I was going to — ( what was she going to do again? right. reels. ) — there's this question going around about... how realistic it is to have sex on a bike. And this guy...
( she just plays the reel for him, tucking in close. they're totally sharing this secret. except... she meant for this to be cheeky, and now she's just flustered. how did it become like this? )
[ sylus prefers it like this. where they both make their desires obvious; no pretenses beyond mild word play.
then again, hadn't he granted every single one of her wishes even in times past? it feels as natural as breathing. from an existence who only comprehended the sensation of being despised, feared, and other such cruel conventions— it felt good to see the want that lays latent in not only her mind, but perhaps the depths of her soul.
while he toes the line with his words, each other. there really is no subtlety to it. when it comes to miss hunter, he'd like to think he made himself exceedingly clear. when she shifts her body closer, he can feel the collective warmth permeating between them even in the chilly air of the night.
well, it seems like they'd warm up soon enough. exercise did that. yet, even if he anticipated it, he can't help but to release a small chuckle. he shakes his head just slightly, the humor still evident in his gaze. ] "So"— [ he almost copies the way she starts off her sentence, clearly amused at her slight flustering. ]
You thought you would leave it up to me.
[ yet, he barely waits before he hoists her up against his bike with one arm, grabbing the helmet with the other. he places it down abruptly, not really caring that it hits the ground with a loud thud, before he settles both of his hands on either side of her. ] Well, you're in luck. You came to the right place.
[ was this too sudden? whatever she's wearing, his hand may be casually resting on her thigh. ]
( subtlety is a thing of the past with them both. there is no other way but forward — for her, sylus is a wish fulfilled, a gift and a curse in his own right, each as welcome as the other. he is made for her, she thinks sometimes — not in the romantic sense, but in every possible primal, gritty way one person can belong to another, jagged edges and all.
they are a puzzle torn apart, and the soft timbre of his chuckle sends shivers of delight up her spine. his gaze is warm and amused, soothing her fluster and dissolving her shyness. of course, what does she have to be shy about? this is sylus, who has seen the best and worst of her and yet still remains.
she laughs lightly when she feels him pick her up like she weighs nothing, and she leans up against him, pressing flush to his chest. the short leather skirt she's wearing rides up, her knee-high boots lightly rubbing along the back of his calves. she's reaching up to touch his cheek, setting the phone aside. )
I thought we could do this together. And you are the only person I thought of.
( only she can end his life, and only he is fated to be by her side like this. she tilts her head up with a small smile, then kisses him, slow and sensuous. )
The only person. [ he repeats, his brow going up just slightly as if he were truly committed to mulling this over. in reality, it didn't matter. if he wasn't, then he'd only have to replace them. it's probably the sort of confidence only someone like sylus could exude. all the same, he feels drawn to her words. ]
Since you put it like that, as the only person, how could I say no?
[ step one already seems down. the bike is already put into position with the kick stand perfectly in place. even as sylus leans some weight against it, it doesn't seem to budge, minus the slight rebound of weight as the bikes natural suspension kicks in. when her body comes in close, he keeps his eyes on her, up until the point where their lips meet. his tongue firmly presses down on her lower lip, before his teeth gently graze against it. it's as if he's purposely taking his time. before, he draws back. ]
It's not a question of if, it's about when and how much we want it. [ how much she wants it, if his hand that creeps up to her thigh is any indication. his fingers splayed out over it, massaging gently into her skin as it moves higher. ]
( what a man. at this point, kiyomi can definitely read him like a book — he isn't really mulling that over, she knows; he has too much confidence for that, the handsome jerk. but then again, that's what she's always liked about him, his easy grace, that self-assuredness, that ego, that troublemaking, dangerous edge, and also that ruthless side of him that warms her blood and gets her going.
all of it in a complex, captivating, incredibly tall package.
the kiss makes her toes curl, but then he pulls away too quickly and she whines, leaning forward to chase after him. the bike rebounds slightly, and she squirms, wrapping her legs around him. she's not afraid he'd drop her — he never will, but the added thrill of that narrow possibility has her pulse thrumming. his eyes are endlessly beautiful, and her hand comes up to curl in his hair, the other slipping down to echo his movement, easing between his legs to gently fondle him, tracing over the shape of his bulge. )
Here, right now. ( she tells him in no uncertain terms, meeting his eyes boldly. she loves his touch, sighing softly as she massages his scalp, her lips parted. ) And as many times as this bike of yours will hold up. Kiss me again.
[ even when he's given her multiple avenues of escape, or several outs— she's somehow managed to persist each time. to chase him, almost as if she were his shadow. perhaps, it truly was a curse that bonded them. or maybe something much, much deeper.
he loves her fearlessness, and every inch of willpower she possessed in her body. just like now, when he looks over her delicate features— the curve of her nose, the shape of her lips still wet with his saliva, the sheer life force behind her burning gaze that was filled to the brim with yearning for him...
then again, it's difficult to determine where her want ended and his started. the lines swiftly become blurred, and everything else seems so inconsequential. while this may have been sparked off a video she shared, it's no longer about that. he simply desired her. even now he feels his heart beating quickly in his chest, the blood flowing through his veins, and the way it stimulates his hunger for her. even his pants feel tights with his want.
when her hand reaches to his pants, he releases a heavy exhale. not in exasperation, but in pleasure and anticipation. there's an easy, almost indolent smile that spreads across his lips. ] Then I'm glad we both don't want to waste time. [ just like that he meets her gaze fully, he wets his own lips before kisses her once more, this time more fervently. he tilts his head, angling his tongue to savor her taste.
the heat shared between them hardly feels like enough. his hand on her thigh move upwards, his fingers gradually settling between her legs, he rubs her through the material of her underwear. his fingers moving in slow, gradual motions.
just another night in which mephisto has to look the other way, i guess. ]
[ sylus was never the type for regrets, nor remorse.
they seemed too "human" an instinct for someone like him who bordered on the edge of dealing with ever and the praedetors spawned in their wake. he presumed he would always live an equally tumultuous life full of danger at every turn. a solitary one, only marked by him moving from one apartment to the next. never really settling his roots down anywhere, nor with anyone. freedom in that sense could have very well just have been a pre-constructed notion that had no real meaning in the world he lived in.
yet, in spite of the peril he lived through, or the almost nomadic lifestyle he took on as someone escaping from the periphery of all the enemies who wanted him dead as a doornail— he picked up a little kitten bird.
it's difficult to discern what he initially thought of it all, if just because his own feelings had blossomed in a way he didn't entirely expect. then again, from the moment they both locked eyes in the midst of the teetering edge of life and death— they may have always had some type of inexplicable kinship. as if they were born from the same soil.
in turn, he's trained her. raised her into who she was today. ... and lately, he feels like they were on the cusp of breaching some invisible boundary they've never spoke on. he feels it when her touch lingers on him for too long, or even in the way she seems to draw his eyes to her so naturally. no, it's like he couldn't control himself from seeing her. of being hyper aware of her presence in every room, and he's gradually come to the conclusion it isn't just for her safety anymore.
he never thought he actually needed any sense of self-restraint. no restraint in terms of his world, only led to death. but, it's something he's realized he's practiced without allocating a lot thought into it. as with their usual routine, he can hear her rouse from the other room as he himself sits in the living room, oddly alert at this hour. does it come from the fact that their lives could be at stake in a second, or because just hearing her rustle around her room makes him think that any night could be their last together.
maybe she would finally run.
he doesn't look up from his usual gun maintenance, his eyes fixed on wiping it down with a cloth. he does, however, briefly move a couch cushion out of the way for her to take her usual seat beside him. ]
[ the walls have never been thinner, her awareness of his presence has never been more acute.
it is true that he's practically plucked her from the dirt and raised her as his own, teaching her everything she knew, providing for her every need, and then some — but as kiyomi grows into herself, blossoming into a young woman; along with maturing comes the trappings of adulthood, of inexplicable, intense feelings that have somehow evolved from something resembling familial to something markedly not.
it grows like a living thing, gnawing in her chest; more insistent every single time he's in her orbit. sylus is no longer far-removed, lofty and unreachable. kiyomi has clawed her way to him, inch by inch, fighting to be strong and clever in a bid to reach his level. every touch, every lingering look is hard-won, stolen by kiyomi's greedy fingers and too-inappropriate thoughts.
she wants him, she knows. he might be older, he might be her teacher, her father-figure, but she can stand on her own and she's more than ready to be seen as something else. her gratitude is distilled into something more unforgivable, something more intense; it's what keeps her up at night, this acute awareness of sylus' presence just a thin, thin wall away.
she takes a breath and steps out, heart thrumming in her ribs. it's now or never, right? the worst he can do is turn her down. her gaze is drawn to the way his hands move over his gun, the care he exhibits with the weapon. but oh, isn't she his weapon, too? the way he makes space for her is touching, but she wants... she wants more. this could be the last night of their lives, and she's not wasting another night dancing around the elephant in the room.
surely, he must feel it too. she's seen the way he looks at her, felt the heat of his touch before it slipped from her fingers too often.
instead of sitting beside him, however, she marshals every ounce of her audacity and moves to straddle his hips, sitting on his lap. the thin straps of her nightdress threaten to slip off her shoulders, but she's determined. )
[ sylus isn’t so out of touch with reality that he can’t recognize that there may have been some vague overlap in their gazes. that the tension in the air wasn’t simply from the nerves of perpetually evading the perils that lurked behind every corner. no, it’s clear where it ultimately stemmed from, and as a steady reminder of it, his eyes settle on kiyomi’s figure even in the dark. it’s hard not to note the way her nightdress falls on her body, or the way in which it accentuates her delicate form. while he’s proficient in maintaining some level of false nonchalance, there is an obvious curiosity to the way he looks up towards her drawing closer and closer until she’s almost touching his knees.
who knew this was just a precursor to what’s to actually come.
at first he focuses his gaze back to his gun, and then he feels the weight of the couch move from beneath him. then he feels the warmth of her drawing up against his lap. for a moment, all it still, and he keeps his gaze on the gun. a gun, he now finishes wiping it and settling down on the very convenient side table. when he finally settles his eyes back on hers, he sees it may have been a mistake. a welcome one, sure, but… ]
The insomnia isn’t anything new for you. [ he retorts, but the way his lips curl up might suggest he knows that isn’t the topic she’s actually trying to broach at all. but, per usual, sylus wants to hear it from her; he’s always given her options and agency, and if this was yet another one of her choices, then he’d like to think he taught her to speak them clearly. … or maybe, he just really wants to hear them.
yet contrary to his words, his fingers come up, they pad against her arm, and then gradually move to her shoulder, where he fixes the loose strap of her gown. ]
i know this is on really short notice but a few of my friends and i are going out for dinner tonight and i realised that they're bringing their boyfriends along
and i thought of you do you wanna come
( nevermind that they haven't actually really defined their relationship yet )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bike rides.
are you free?
( in other words.... u up, bby? )
no subject
You still have the energy to walk at this time. and text.
no subject
are you spying on me again
what if im doing something you shouldn't be seeing? like buying you a gift
anyway im energetic because i took a nap this afternoon
no subject
Im sure if he saw something he shouldnt, you could always negotiate your terms.
What a coincidence, I suddenly feel like going on a ride. I could use the company.
no subject
speaking of rides
i wouldn't hop on it without me yet
there's something i want to show you
no subject
[ she would be with him soon, wouldn't she? hence, the knocks 2/3, as for the girlfriend, well. wasn't that obvious?
either way, it seems she was far closer than he initially expected, and maybe now he can even see her silhouette in the distance. he's already outside with his leather jacket on, he places his helmet against the bike's handles, and hers on the seat. he keeps his gaze away from hers, even humming a tune as he waits for her to come closer.
he feigns being busy, almost as if to see what she'll do when she closes in on him. he types a reply in the meantime. ] Oh, something you want to show me? are you telling me in hopes of building the suspense?
If so, you should know to put in the right amount of effort.
no subject
he's very handsome like this, typing on his phone with the dim light hitting him just right. he's a living masterpiece, all angles and shadow, ruby red and onyx, and leather looks really, really good on him.
another picture, and she's scampering over to him looking like a very smug cat that's eaten a very fat canary. or a mephisto, etc. but when she is right in his personal space, she's swiping through the apps to find the right one. as if she didn't just set him as her home screen wallpaper. )
Well, it's more like something I have to show you in person. A reel. I wanted to see if it's a thing.
no subject
just her being within proximity is enough to whet his appetite for more, and he wants to draw her in closer. an embrace, a kiss. their fingers joined...
not unlike the way he breaches the small amount of space between them and he's already reaching to hold her hand that's so energetically is scrolling through her apps. his fingers curl over the back of hers, squeezing them gently. he leans in over her, his face close enough for his breath to brush against her ear.
his voice is deep and hushed like they're sharing some deep secret rather than a reel on moments. ] You always have suggestions worth losing sleep over, so let's see it. There's nothing I wouldn't do to satisfy your curiosity. [ ( eng va voice ) sweetie. ]
no subject
( she can taste it, that desire for touch, for proximity, to seal the distance between them because that's the most natural state of their being. she can feel her own soul resonate with his, a powerful attraction that sets her within his orbit once again.
she shifts into his hold without thinking, slipping back into his space like it's the most natural thing in the world to do. but this means she's distracted from her scrolling, the heat of his words and that low, velvety purr making her shiver. maybe this is the secret: that sylus of the n109 zone can make her pulse race with just a few words. )
You —
( her mouth goes dry. sweetie. she is so dead; he is too good at this. ) So, I was going to — ( what was she going to do again? right. reels. ) — there's this question going around about... how realistic it is to have sex on a bike. And this guy...
( she just plays the reel for him, tucking in close. they're totally sharing this secret. except... she meant for this to be cheeky, and now she's just flustered. how did it become like this? )
no subject
then again, hadn't he granted every single one of her wishes even in times past? it feels as natural as breathing. from an existence who only comprehended the sensation of being despised, feared, and other such cruel conventions— it felt good to see the want that lays latent in not only her mind, but perhaps the depths of her soul.
while he toes the line with his words, each other. there really is no subtlety to it. when it comes to miss hunter, he'd like to think he made himself exceedingly clear. when she shifts her body closer, he can feel the collective warmth permeating between them even in the chilly air of the night.
well, it seems like they'd warm up soon enough. exercise did that. yet, even if he anticipated it, he can't help but to release a small chuckle. he shakes his head just slightly, the humor still evident in his gaze. ] "So"— [ he almost copies the way she starts off her sentence, clearly amused at her slight flustering. ]
You thought you would leave it up to me.
[ yet, he barely waits before he hoists her up against his bike with one arm, grabbing the helmet with the other. he places it down abruptly, not really caring that it hits the ground with a loud thud, before he settles both of his hands on either side of her. ] Well, you're in luck. You came to the right place.
[ was this too sudden? whatever she's wearing, his hand may be casually resting on her thigh. ]
no subject
they are a puzzle torn apart, and the soft timbre of his chuckle sends shivers of delight up her spine. his gaze is warm and amused, soothing her fluster and dissolving her shyness. of course, what does she have to be shy about? this is sylus, who has seen the best and worst of her and yet still remains.
she laughs lightly when she feels him pick her up like she weighs nothing, and she leans up against him, pressing flush to his chest. the short leather skirt she's wearing rides up, her knee-high boots lightly rubbing along the back of his calves. she's reaching up to touch his cheek, setting the phone aside. )
I thought we could do this together. And you are the only person I thought of.
( only she can end his life, and only he is fated to be by her side like this. she tilts her head up with a small smile, then kisses him, slow and sensuous. )
Wanna see if we can make it happen?
no subject
Since you put it like that, as the only person, how could I say no?
[ step one already seems down. the bike is already put into position with the kick stand perfectly in place. even as sylus leans some weight against it, it doesn't seem to budge, minus the slight rebound of weight as the bikes natural suspension kicks in. when her body comes in close, he keeps his eyes on her, up until the point where their lips meet. his tongue firmly presses down on her lower lip, before his teeth gently graze against it. it's as if he's purposely taking his time. before, he draws back. ]
It's not a question of if, it's about when and how much we want it. [ how much she wants it, if his hand that creeps up to her thigh is any indication. his fingers splayed out over it, massaging gently into her skin as it moves higher. ]
no subject
all of it in a complex, captivating, incredibly tall package.
the kiss makes her toes curl, but then he pulls away too quickly and she whines, leaning forward to chase after him. the bike rebounds slightly, and she squirms, wrapping her legs around him. she's not afraid he'd drop her — he never will, but the added thrill of that narrow possibility has her pulse thrumming. his eyes are endlessly beautiful, and her hand comes up to curl in his hair, the other slipping down to echo his movement, easing between his legs to gently fondle him, tracing over the shape of his bulge. )
Here, right now. ( she tells him in no uncertain terms, meeting his eyes boldly. she loves his touch, sighing softly as she massages his scalp, her lips parted. ) And as many times as this bike of yours will hold up. Kiss me again.
no subject
he loves her fearlessness, and every inch of willpower she possessed in her body. just like now, when he looks over her delicate features— the curve of her nose, the shape of her lips still wet with his saliva, the sheer life force behind her burning gaze that was filled to the brim with yearning for him...
then again, it's difficult to determine where her want ended and his started. the lines swiftly become blurred, and everything else seems so inconsequential. while this may have been sparked off a video she shared, it's no longer about that. he simply desired her. even now he feels his heart beating quickly in his chest, the blood flowing through his veins, and the way it stimulates his hunger for her. even his pants feel tights with his want.
when her hand reaches to his pants, he releases a heavy exhale. not in exasperation, but in pleasure and anticipation. there's an easy, almost indolent smile that spreads across his lips. ] Then I'm glad we both don't want to waste time. [ just like that he meets her gaze fully, he wets his own lips before kisses her once more, this time more fervently. he tilts his head, angling his tongue to savor her taste.
the heat shared between them hardly feels like enough. his hand on her thigh move upwards, his fingers gradually settling between her legs, he rubs her through the material of her underwear. his fingers moving in slow, gradual motions.
just another night in which mephisto has to look the other way, i guess. ]
catch 22...
they seemed too "human" an instinct for someone like him who bordered on the edge of dealing with ever and the praedetors spawned in their wake. he presumed he would always live an equally tumultuous life full of danger at every turn. a solitary one, only marked by him moving from one apartment to the next. never really settling his roots down anywhere, nor with anyone. freedom in that sense could have very well just have been a pre-constructed notion that had no real meaning in the world he lived in.
yet, in spite of the peril he lived through, or the almost nomadic lifestyle he took on as someone escaping from the periphery of all the enemies who wanted him dead as a doornail— he picked up a little
kittenbird.it's difficult to discern what he initially thought of it all, if just because his own feelings had blossomed in a way he didn't entirely expect. then again, from the moment they both locked eyes in the midst of the teetering edge of life and death— they may have always had some type of inexplicable kinship. as if they were born from the same soil.
in turn, he's trained her. raised her into who she was today. ... and lately, he feels like they were on the cusp of breaching some invisible boundary they've never spoke on. he feels it when her touch lingers on him for too long, or even in the way she seems to draw his eyes to her so naturally. no, it's like he couldn't control himself from seeing her. of being hyper aware of her presence in every room, and he's gradually come to the conclusion it isn't just for her safety anymore.
he never thought he actually needed any sense of self-restraint. no restraint in terms of his world, only led to death. but, it's something he's realized he's practiced without allocating a lot thought into it. as with their usual routine, he can hear her rouse from the other room as he himself sits in the living room, oddly alert at this hour. does it come from the fact that their lives could be at stake in a second, or because just hearing her rustle around her room makes him think that any night could be their last together.
maybe she would finally run.
he doesn't look up from his usual gun maintenance, his eyes fixed on wiping it down with a cloth. he does, however, briefly move a couch cushion out of the way for her to take her usual seat beside him. ]
Can't sleep? That's a first. [ lol. ]
no subject
it is true that he's practically plucked her from the dirt and raised her as his own, teaching her everything she knew, providing for her every need, and then some — but as kiyomi grows into herself, blossoming into a young woman; along with maturing comes the trappings of adulthood, of inexplicable, intense feelings that have somehow evolved from something resembling familial to something markedly not.
it grows like a living thing, gnawing in her chest; more insistent every single time he's in her orbit. sylus is no longer far-removed, lofty and unreachable. kiyomi has clawed her way to him, inch by inch, fighting to be strong and clever in a bid to reach his level. every touch, every lingering look is hard-won, stolen by kiyomi's greedy fingers and too-inappropriate thoughts.
she wants him, she knows. he might be older, he might be her teacher, her father-figure, but she can stand on her own and she's more than ready to be seen as something else. her gratitude is distilled into something more unforgivable, something more intense; it's what keeps her up at night, this acute awareness of sylus' presence just a thin, thin wall away.
she takes a breath and steps out, heart thrumming in her ribs. it's now or never, right? the worst he can do is turn her down. her gaze is drawn to the way his hands move over his gun, the care he exhibits with the weapon. but oh, isn't she his weapon, too? the way he makes space for her is touching, but she wants... she wants more. this could be the last night of their lives, and she's not wasting another night dancing around the elephant in the room.
surely, he must feel it too. she's seen the way he looks at her, felt the heat of his touch before it slipped from her fingers too often.
instead of sitting beside him, however, she marshals every ounce of her audacity and moves to straddle his hips, sitting on his lap. the thin straps of her nightdress threaten to slip off her shoulders, but she's determined. )
I'm tired of this.
no subject
who knew this was just a precursor to what’s to actually come.
at first he focuses his gaze back to his gun, and then he feels the weight of the couch move from beneath him. then he feels the warmth of her drawing up against his lap. for a moment, all it still, and he keeps his gaze on the gun. a gun, he now finishes wiping it and settling down on the very convenient side table. when he finally settles his eyes back on hers, he sees it may have been a mistake. a welcome one, sure, but… ]
The insomnia isn’t anything new for you. [ he retorts, but the way his lips curl up might suggest he knows that isn’t the topic she’s actually trying to broach at all. but, per usual, sylus wants to hear it from her; he’s always given her options and agency, and if this was yet another one of her choices, then he’d like to think he taught her to speak them clearly. … or maybe, he just really wants to hear them.
yet contrary to his words, his fingers come up, they pad against her arm, and then gradually move to her shoulder, where he fixes the loose strap of her gown. ]
text;
a few of my friends and i are going out for dinner tonight and i realised that they're bringing their boyfriends along
and i thought of you
do you wanna come
( nevermind that they haven't actually really defined their relationship yet )
no subject
Last week you were saying something a little different.
[ crow swirling wine glass emoji.
him being annoying for a moment aside. ]
What time should I be there to pick you up?
[ don't let the fake nonchalance fool you... ]