and all the quiet nights you bear, seal them up with care
no one needs to know they’re there, or i will hold them for you
How she wishes that she burns just as her body indicates: sizzling and confident, a force to truly be reckoned with; she is merely a facade with a sharp tongue and no ambition.
She is much smaller than she seems.
For all of her pretty wiles and fluttering lashes, Brunhilde is terribly inexperience. She spent most of her childhood obsessing over her parents’ split, constantly hoping they will find each other again. Thoughts like those - the vulnerable, the wretched, the sad - kept her from straying much further than Loess and Hyaline. Oh, she had a tryst here and a flirtation there, but those experiments are nothing like what she faces now.
Pretty.
That is what she thinks as the maneless woman stares dumbfounded in the little flame’s direction. The way her eyes fall into a puppy’s stare and then snap right back to attention draws a gasp from Brun’s mouth. The ghost of a smile twists half of her mouth, and her eyelids droop in pleasant surprise. I like that. And she certainly does: the soft curve of pearly fur against the wolffish hunger in her eyes. Lo’s duality splits and surrounds Brunhilde, then molds back together as one around her skin. Familiar.
“How can I not like girls?” is Hildy’s simple counter before she splashes closer to the cremello. She arches her neck and peers with one glittering eye. “You don’t know if you want to fuck me?” The gentle line of her lips and devilish glint in her eyes dare Leokadia, dare her to rebuff the little display Brun has put on - until she relaxes and lets out a carefree laugh. “The whole maneless thing you got going on is hot. Has no one ever told you that?” She turns to face the cremello head on. “That you’re attractive?”
@[Leokadia]
