how do you wanna face it? when the end is so close you can taste it
It’s a damn shame that the world will never know the potential glory of Thomas’s cock, because Raza, too, is completely taken out of the mood by the echoing crack of splintering wood (no pun intended). She and the rest of the Halenani (or, well, most of them, probably) have been through enough monsoons to know the warnings. Her face falls and then hardens, cherries and sex all but forgotten.
“Fuckin' hell, really?,” she says almost snarls, covering him back up.
Whatever isn’t tacked down or fairly solid begins to fly about in the gale - clothing is whipped about, curtains and gauzey things thrashing like ghouls in the wind. She puts up an arm to block her face and then turns to put her back to the worst of it, looking for someplace sturdy. Except she doesn’t know the Halenani that well.
“We’ve got to go,” Raza yells down at him - though she gives no indication to knowing where they should god.
“Fuckin' hell, really?,” she says almost snarls, covering him back up.
Whatever isn’t tacked down or fairly solid begins to fly about in the gale - clothing is whipped about, curtains and gauzey things thrashing like ghouls in the wind. She puts up an arm to block her face and then turns to put her back to the worst of it, looking for someplace sturdy. Except she doesn’t know the Halenani that well.
“We’ve got to go,” Raza yells down at him - though she gives no indication to knowing where they should god.
