Beginning to think you'd miss me if you didn't swing by now and then.
[ She doesn't react, and another time Leon might have been disappointed. Not now, not when her unaffected tolerance means Leon can act without being waved off, can indulge himself in the distracting micromovements of his fingers, feeling her and the texture of the material between his fingertips and her skin.
He still smells like woodsmoke, summer sweat, and the whisky he sipped on the shore. She smells like heaven, his only excuse for indulging in the scent of her hair is there's no way he can back off without slipping from the horse's back. She said she'd leave him there, can't be helped, right? But god, if a moment could last hours, he'd try to preserve this, the hot pain of his injuries and all.
Not that lucky; Whetstone rises like a pale ghost under the moonlight, a square stone gargoyle squatting near the wine-dark sea, a long slope of green leading to its drawbridge. It's down. Which spares Leon from the need of calling ahead. Which... he should have done anyway, rather than just drop in on Shaxx like this. Leon starts to fumble for his communicator, only to change his mind when he has to clutch at his side again. ]
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[ She doesn't react, and another time Leon might have been disappointed. Not now, not when her unaffected tolerance means Leon can act without being waved off, can indulge himself in the distracting micromovements of his fingers, feeling her and the texture of the material between his fingertips and her skin.
He still smells like woodsmoke, summer sweat, and the whisky he sipped on the shore. She smells like heaven, his only excuse for indulging in the scent of her hair is there's no way he can back off without slipping from the horse's back. She said she'd leave him there, can't be helped, right? But god, if a moment could last hours, he'd try to preserve this, the hot pain of his injuries and all.
Not that lucky; Whetstone rises like a pale ghost under the moonlight, a square stone gargoyle squatting near the wine-dark sea, a long slope of green leading to its drawbridge. It's down. Which spares Leon from the need of calling ahead. Which... he should have done anyway, rather than just drop in on Shaxx like this. Leon starts to fumble for his communicator, only to change his mind when he has to clutch at his side again. ]
There it is.