11-19-2017, 09:33 AM
He can see that familiar glint in her dark eyes – the one that reads him as predictable, led by hormone and desire. He suppresses his chuckle as their eyes meet, as they analyze each other. He doesn’t mind hiding beneath the guise of some dim-witted hard on, to let her think that all he may want to do is collect her and put her away with the other shiny breeders. Her laughs draw his eyes to hers, no longer malingering across the hills and valleys of her body. He’s always liked to sip on the laugh of a pretty woman, to watch her lips wrinkle at their edges while her throat bubbles that sweet little sound. She’s like looking upon a bright and innocent fox of the deep wood – dazzlingly pretty, wild-eyed, so curious. He can tell that she wears no veils, or that she thinks she does not, anyhow. She fancies herself a Plain Jane, yes? His grin tweaks more on one side while she speaks, nodding. “Oh yes,” he voice growls, “…a shame indeed.” And he leaves it silent, her name comes next and still the silence persists for a few long minutes further. “So what do you do here then, Keeper?” He smiles crookedly, “Are you a pupil or a master? Perhaps neither?” c h e m d o g in absentia luci, tenebrae vincunt |
@[keeper]
