09-06-2021, 02:33 PM
Desire
His clear revulsion at the mention of Pangea causes her cool, almost flippant demeanor to shift to something a bit more openly curious. Has she ever met anyone that genuinely disliked the place? She herself didn’t find it especially appealing—it was dry and barren, and harsh in all the ways you’d expect a desert canyon to be. Draco seemed to dislike it in the same way she did (as in, they both claimed to dislike it, while continuing to live there), but Ashhal seemed to despise it. He spoke of it with a loathing that gave her the impression it was personal, and she is unable to stop herself when she asks innocently enough, “It sounds as though you don’t like Pangea. Did you have a bad experience with someone from there?”
That certainly doesn’t sound like the Pangea she knows, she thinks to herself with amusement flashing briefly in her eyes. Pangea doing something to earn falling out of this man’s favor? Unfathomable.
But he takes a step closer to her, and the moment the heat of his breath hits her skin, the mood shifts entirely. It is as if he finally snatched away the veil she had been concealing herself with, and all that is left standing before him is a woman with eyes too dark and a smile far too sharp. “Funnily enough,” she says, soft and slow, taking her own step forward so that the distance between them simply no longer existed, her lips nearly brushing against his own cheek. “Fighting and fucking are two of my favorite past times,” she laughs, a low purr in her chest, “I’ll let you decide which one we’re doing first.”
That certainly doesn’t sound like the Pangea she knows, she thinks to herself with amusement flashing briefly in her eyes. Pangea doing something to earn falling out of this man’s favor? Unfathomable.
But he takes a step closer to her, and the moment the heat of his breath hits her skin, the mood shifts entirely. It is as if he finally snatched away the veil she had been concealing herself with, and all that is left standing before him is a woman with eyes too dark and a smile far too sharp. “Funnily enough,” she says, soft and slow, taking her own step forward so that the distance between them simply no longer existed, her lips nearly brushing against his own cheek. “Fighting and fucking are two of my favorite past times,” she laughs, a low purr in her chest, “I’ll let you decide which one we’re doing first.”
so we're slaves to any semblance of touch, lord we should quit, but we love it too much
@Ashhal