Lion Head Mesa Ding dong [2]

he sat.

a questioning cock to the way his head fell.

she wondered if he truly could not speak, or if him simply opted not to. would anything she tell him ever escape his lips?

the room was empty, save for them. their breathing, their heartbeats. she found him no less enchanting now than she did before, despite knowing he might be pinned beneath her father's thumb.

did pharaoh send you?

she spoke, dull and cool. eyes growing half-lidded.