[I have no doubt that both of their minds are going end up wending down the exact same path and end in the exact same destination....
Her neck. Dumbly, perhaps (we will always blame the opium), both hands rise and trail the tips of his fingers from the sides of her neck and behind, lacing them there and leaning forward, taking in scent, softness, warmth.]
no subject
Her neck. Dumbly, perhaps (we will always blame the opium), both hands rise and trail the tips of his fingers from the sides of her neck and behind, lacing them there and leaning forward, taking in scent, softness, warmth.]