Weaver
So precious is this life, this gift,
this temporary blindness.
this temporary blindness.
She nearly snorts at his words, and the laugh that escapes her is a bit choked. ”You must be a saint, because I don’t think anyone has ever said I am easy to deal with.” Though they might call her easy (she was not, except when she wanted to be). ”Mmm, I like you too, even though that sounds like something a schoolgirl might say. I’d make a sexy schoolgirl, though.” She grins, mischief sparking behind the look.
”No offense, but I am not entirely surprised. You are the type of hot that would have to try a little harder,” she says, a slight purr in her voice, like she doesn’t really care. It’s not an insult, just a fact, because she does not lie unless it’s truly necessary. ”Or maybe I am just very good at pretending.” She was a different sort of mess. A calculated mess, who didn’t care about the things most others cared about. She had her messy moments, too, drunken debaucherous nights, but they didn’t bother her and so perhaps, that helped her to hold it all together. She left those nights in between the sheets and never looked back.
He leans a little closer, and the space between them almost hurts. She wants to close it, wants to press herself into him and yet something stops her. Maybe because she likes him in a way she very rarely likes anyone. In a way that is more careful (as careful as Weaver knows how to be), in a way that is willing to be patient. Endlessly patient. Some things are worth waiting for. So she leaves the space, relishing his hands in her hair, his lips on hers.
”I have long since been corrupted, so hopefully you don’t mind. You are an Outlander and a Launceleyn related to Zariah, so you have no sterling reputation anymore anyway. I don’t think we need to do anything besides be, and we will scandalize the whole damn town.” To be honest, it might work in his favor. It might lend him some credibility. More likely though, it would do no such thing. He’d get shit for dating taking a Halovian Natural out of their limited pool (if that is what he wants, she does not know yet), and she’d take shit for letting him.
Her fingers trace lazy circles on his back, unsurprised at this next comment. ”That fits with your past.” Though as he mentions beating Korbin in a fight, she can only laugh, nodding her head in agreement. ”Oh absolutely. He can’t beat me, and while I at least might be a challenge for you, you will win.” It’s not a question. She’s outmatched against him, though she’d at least put up a fight.
She leans forward to kiss his neck when he looks away, not shy, not embarrassed. Unafraid, as she always is. She chuckles slightly at his words, looking anything but sheepish. ”You mean outside of kissing you, or perhaps undressing you?” She slips her hands down the collar of his shirt, just for emphasis. ”I suppose that depends on what you want. I am rather flexible with the details. I have only three rules, if you want to try something.” She says something in a way that suggests it doesn’t need to be a label, that it doesn’t need to be as the world might expect. She would try it for him though, if that is what he wants.
”No offense, but I am not entirely surprised. You are the type of hot that would have to try a little harder,” she says, a slight purr in her voice, like she doesn’t really care. It’s not an insult, just a fact, because she does not lie unless it’s truly necessary. ”Or maybe I am just very good at pretending.” She was a different sort of mess. A calculated mess, who didn’t care about the things most others cared about. She had her messy moments, too, drunken debaucherous nights, but they didn’t bother her and so perhaps, that helped her to hold it all together. She left those nights in between the sheets and never looked back.
He leans a little closer, and the space between them almost hurts. She wants to close it, wants to press herself into him and yet something stops her. Maybe because she likes him in a way she very rarely likes anyone. In a way that is more careful (as careful as Weaver knows how to be), in a way that is willing to be patient. Endlessly patient. Some things are worth waiting for. So she leaves the space, relishing his hands in her hair, his lips on hers.
”I have long since been corrupted, so hopefully you don’t mind. You are an Outlander and a Launceleyn related to Zariah, so you have no sterling reputation anymore anyway. I don’t think we need to do anything besides be, and we will scandalize the whole damn town.” To be honest, it might work in his favor. It might lend him some credibility. More likely though, it would do no such thing. He’d get shit for dating taking a Halovian Natural out of their limited pool (if that is what he wants, she does not know yet), and she’d take shit for letting him.
Her fingers trace lazy circles on his back, unsurprised at this next comment. ”That fits with your past.” Though as he mentions beating Korbin in a fight, she can only laugh, nodding her head in agreement. ”Oh absolutely. He can’t beat me, and while I at least might be a challenge for you, you will win.” It’s not a question. She’s outmatched against him, though she’d at least put up a fight.
She leans forward to kiss his neck when he looks away, not shy, not embarrassed. Unafraid, as she always is. She chuckles slightly at his words, looking anything but sheepish. ”You mean outside of kissing you, or perhaps undressing you?” She slips her hands down the collar of his shirt, just for emphasis. ”I suppose that depends on what you want. I am rather flexible with the details. I have only three rules, if you want to try something.” She says something in a way that suggests it doesn’t need to be a label, that it doesn’t need to be as the world might expect. She would try it for him though, if that is what he wants.
Burn and drown and embrace the false dark,
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
