Lake Rodney i will fly

while the mysterious siren that has him woefully ensnared does not give verbal permission — with which kharybdis is fine with; his common is far from good and just speaking that little cut off question had been humiliating enough — but she does not shirk away, either. instead, she presses closer and it is all the invitation the furie needs.

his initial touch of his nose to her shoulder is tentative. unsure; of himself. of her. if any of this was real or if he was so starved for company that he conjured her from the dredges of his imagination. surely, he thinks, if that were the case she would not be so pretty ...nor so warm.

and so long as she does not shy away from him, kharybdis would reach for her again, to trace his lips across the supple curve of her shoulder; exploring and worshipping.