Maeve
Why would you make out of words
A cage for your own bird?
A cage for your own bird?
For what it's worth, Amun doesn't make her feel worse about things. The Nightshade feels relief wash over her, following it with a sip of wine, letting her nerves slowly unwind once more. "You're welcome..." She murmurs, setting her glass back down again. "It probably took more sixteen hours total. It's a rather large piece." The Nightshade hikes up the skirt of her dress, sticking out a leg so he can see where it travels up from her ankle towards her knee before disappearing beneath her skirt.
"No, I suppose it's not. Just hate that this is how things are." With another shake of her head, Maeve finishes what's in her glass before giving him a small smile. "How about that dancing?"
"No, I suppose it's not. Just hate that this is how things are." With another shake of her head, Maeve finishes what's in her glass before giving him a small smile. "How about that dancing?"
When it sings so sweet
The screaming, heaving fuckery of the world?
The screaming, heaving fuckery of the world?
