[ Anyone can parse it in one lifetime. C.C. has had to relive many stupid moments, cruel moments – all that make her feel as she if she was truly curse. Yet, in warmth she feels no regret. A fear, even if it was pushed and swallowed down with every sweet breath she takes, does still bury itself in her heart. That's not what this is. This was living, this was making the kind of mistakes that wouldn't leave scars.
She's too close to him.
He's too close to her.
They both understand and play the game carelessly. For two people who experienced death, what's a little pain if this doesn't work out?
Her back remains firm to his front half and she just sinks further into him, thighs spreading and pinning his to the sdies of the tub. His own eagerness is what gets to her and allows him to prod and test where she needed him most. A cruel witch leaves it to him to figure it out – to follow the sucks of air and way her body twitches. ]
Don't say that again. [ To modify or ya feel me. What are you, 13? C.C.'s hand climbs to claw at his forearm and downward, rooting roughly into him to guide him where he falls short, dancing against the back of his knuckles eventually. ] Our terms are satisfactory. They fuel us each... – hah – each day, do they not?
no subject
[ Anyone can parse it in one lifetime. C.C. has had to relive many stupid moments, cruel moments – all that make her feel as she if she was truly curse. Yet, in warmth she feels no regret. A fear, even if it was pushed and swallowed down with every sweet breath she takes, does still bury itself in her heart. That's not what this is. This was living, this was making the kind of mistakes that wouldn't leave scars.
She's too close to him.
He's too close to her.
They both understand and play the game carelessly. For two people who experienced death, what's a little pain if this doesn't work out?
Her back remains firm to his front half and she just sinks further into him, thighs spreading and pinning his to the sdies of the tub. His own eagerness is what gets to her and allows him to prod and test where she needed him most. A cruel witch leaves it to him to figure it out – to follow the sucks of air and way her body twitches. ]
Don't say that again. [ To modify or ya feel me. What are you, 13? C.C.'s hand climbs to claw at his forearm and downward, rooting roughly into him to guide him where he falls short, dancing against the back of his knuckles eventually. ] Our terms are satisfactory. They fuel us each... – hah – each day, do they not?