Sochi;

[sochi]

Sochi

darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied
maybe you need me or maybe you don't

It’s easy to be here with him—in a way that surprises her. She hadn’t thought that she would ever find something like this to be easy, to be desirable, to be enjoyable. She hadn’t ever thought that she would let someone get close enough to find out but he had managed to sneak in when she wasn’t looking. He had found her in one of the most fragile moments of her life and somehow the rest of it had built around him. he had given her their daughter, and a home, and in a strange way, purpose—drive.

So she doesn’t retaliate when he claims her, when the word slips out in his husky voice. Even though her eyes spark for a moment, even though something flashes across her face and her entire body stills, the muscles locking beneath her coat. She takes a deep breath, studying the hard angles of his face, the boyish charm and the kindness that simmers there beneath the strength and the predatory instincts.

She sees him, all of him, and she exhales slowly.

“Okay,” she says quietly, because it is easier than saying ‘I am.’ It is easier than admitting that she has been for a while—that he has claimed the pieces of her she had pretended didn’t even exist. It is easier than admitting that she doesn’t even know what that means any longer. So she just says okay and then let her lips find the curve of his jaw and the sweep of his neck, moving beneath the bronze of his mane and taking in the spice of him, the scent lingering. “Mine,” she says quietly, almost to herself, feeling that rare tightening in her belly, the feeling clicking into place—of finding the pieces she had thought she’d lost.

She pulls back slightly before her lips curve.

“I am enjoying it quite a bit. How about yourself?”

playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons
if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf

@[Castile]