[ Alina's hand feels good in his hair. His teeth nip down her neck, his breath hot at the hollow of her throat as her words settle.
Ruin. Let.
What would it be to ruin her?
When he puts his mouth to these amplifiers, he is careful to attend to her skin, not the bone. (Every piece of attention paid to it tugs on that line, pulls at the hook set behind the wound in his chest. Notches the heat in his skin higher.) ]
I will, [ He tells her, head tipping back to look up into her face. ] And I'll put you back together after we've finished.
[ His palm flattens across her stomach, fingers slipping lower down her belly as his other arm catches her round the waist. Steadying her. Suspending her in a faint pantomime of the party, that couch. ]
no subject
Ruin. Let.
What would it be to ruin her?
When he puts his mouth to these amplifiers, he is careful to attend to her skin, not the bone. (Every piece of attention paid to it tugs on that line, pulls at the hook set behind the wound in his chest. Notches the heat in his skin higher.) ]
I will, [ He tells her, head tipping back to look up into her face. ] And I'll put you back together after we've finished.
[ His palm flattens across her stomach, fingers slipping lower down her belly as his other arm catches her round the waist. Steadying her. Suspending her in a faint pantomime of the party, that couch. ]
Is that what you want?