𝓕𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓪

There he goes with the nipping, very well.

In that case she is reaching to cup his face and guiding him into a proper kiss.

Wouldn't be better if he laid down with his head on her lap, then?

It certainly is more comfortable...

Blinking, reaching in to caress his cheek.

“she was very sweet, wasn't she?”

She asked with a bitter smile, her hand guiding his up so she could place a kiss above steel knuckles.

She wanted to tell him time healed wounds...but that would be a lie.

“perks of being immortal.

... Killing us is tricky, starving doesn't work either.”

She murmured, returning the gentle squeeze when he began talking about....her...

...

-

“his name was Valarr, a perfect mix between me and his father.”

She spoke fondly, looking up into his coal hues.

“. . . it's been at least a century since then.

He had these fluffy black hair and slightly tan skin which was so soft and smooth.

And the cutest tail, too.”

Opalescent orbs were watchful of his reaction, yet still she seemed absorbed in thoughts herself.

As the locket was nestled between their hands, she smiled softly at the sight.

-

The treasure inside consisted of just a couple of small scales.

And while the opalescent pattern was the same as hers, these ones were of a gentle turquoise colour.

Small scales, too small and soft to be hers, they belonged to a juvenile.

She didn't say a word, her gaze lowered on them.

And wanting to return his trust, she did take off the brooch that held her fluffy coat around her neck.

It was one of those you could open to store something small and as she handed it to him, her fingers trembled.

“...be careful when you open it.”

Her eyes were lost in thoughts at that point, yet she was still looking at him with a little smile.

“promise.

Thank you.”

-

“I...figured, that's why I made sure not to touch it.”

She mumbled quietly, eyes casted upon the cloth.

“see, sometimes I don't understand why you let me take it.

Or wear it.

I'm not supposed to, am I?”

Of course she was handing it back, then came a shrug.

“you can't always be with me, this way at least a part of me will be with you.

Yes, you can laugh now.”

“adding my touch-”

Was her reply after making herself comfortable again, her hand plucking another scale straight from the patch of skin right under her collarbone.

“I believe...that if I had a hat I would store something I hold dear inside it rather than outside, to avoid ruining it.”

Looking up from his hat, at him, then at the hat again.

Then at him once more.

...she is patting her thighs.

She is not far.

Just trying to place a few of her scales inside his hat.

With a sigh she moved into his embrace, slowly straddling his lap and reaching up to cradle his face.

“I'm sorry I just...got worried.

I care for you so much...”

She could feel her cheeks burning out of embarrassment, for a moment there she had a very bad feeling.

Perhaps she just worries too much.

-

“Boothill. The dying part.”

But there was something that turned the fluttering of her heart into... anxiety.

“...say that again?”

The poor girl had to slap a hand over her mouth in order to stay quiet, her cheeks flushing up immediately when a shiver ran down her spine.

She took a shaky sigh, moving her tail out of his grasp.

-

“fucking hell, Boothill.”

The female grumbled before slapping his head with her fins, using said tail to push him on the couch.

“why did you drink this time?”

Plopping her (heavy) fins on his face with the intent of stopping him, crossing her arms.

“you are drunk.”

“oh I should try that since my tail doesn't seem to work.”

She joked, a playful laugh rumbling in her chest.

“I love having your pretty eyes on me after all...”

Not a thing in the world will ever have her objectify him, he was too precious to her.

Oh she was not against the idea, giving the material a gentle, little tug in her direction.

“as it should.

I'm pretty sure it would work on you too, should I decide to wear an embarrassingly skimpy outfit~”

“don't pull that shit on me, you definitely did that on purpose.”

There was a hint of amusement in her voice, boldness even.

In fact, she did reach to tug at the hem of the fabric just a little.

“is this another trick to have all eyes on you?”

Grumbling.

“what was that? It was showing!

I could clearly picture it in my mind!”

To say she was blushing was an understatement, both at the idea AND the nickname.

Swinging the bat in the air.

“COME HERE.”

. . .

That's it, she is grabbing her brand new metal baseball bat.

Someone please send help, she is so done with his fuckery-

What is he doing this time...

She CAN SEE THE OUTLINE.