“If they’re all as lascivious as that one, we might have a case.”
It is easier, the light trace of his hand shaping itself to her thigh temporarily abandoned for him to yield to her reach instead, the tab of clay at his breastbone left turned from eye to scroll. He’s caught close and scruffy in the lingering haze of her smoke, watching her inspect her own handiwork.
Now that they’re here, there are traces of reserve plucked through the back of his wrist, fast fading to the low hum of her voice and the dark of her eyes.
The blue of his is washed warm in the lamplight, sharp bones in his nose and cheek and brow blunted by exhaustion and resolve. Wine prickles acrid on his breath. Affection is a human weakness.
no subject
It is easier, the light trace of his hand shaping itself to her thigh temporarily abandoned for him to yield to her reach instead, the tab of clay at his breastbone left turned from eye to scroll. He’s caught close and scruffy in the lingering haze of her smoke, watching her inspect her own handiwork.
Now that they’re here, there are traces of reserve plucked through the back of his wrist, fast fading to the low hum of her voice and the dark of her eyes.
The blue of his is washed warm in the lamplight, sharp bones in his nose and cheek and brow blunted by exhaustion and resolve. Wine prickles acrid on his breath. Affection is a human weakness.
He leans to kiss her.