I'm fairly sure tattoo guns are for external use only, Kalmiya. [ Her laughter rings out, the vibration of it pinging off of his own quieter huff of breath. ] Your tongue has talents that can't be replicated by machines, obviously.
[Reserved though it may be, his laughter is a straight hit of dopamine to her system. A steady, repeating sentiment of cute props up her clear gratification, drives an impulse to— squeeze something? Kiss him? Perhaps both.
She does neither. For now.] So if I spelled it out with my tongue, that would be all right?
[ There's a rustle on the other end. Or perhaps, more accurately, the bubble of a stream, akin to the buoyancy of a laugh. He's not completely sure of the reason; their ridiculous conversation could be culprit enough.
But, he thinks there's something else underneath. What, he isn't sure. Nothing concerning, at least. ]
I won't say no, if you're offering to revisit our time in the pink room.
Offering? [She repeats it back like a joke, with a lifting cadence of disbelief. Though she's held still up to this point, her psychic projection lifts its hand. Alongside the motion of brushing his shirt collar comes the sound of silk sliding against cotton and the memory of a gentle tug at the back of the neck.
Affection thrums within the shaking boughs of the trees as she grins up at him.] As far as I'm concerned, you've got an open invitation. Just tell me when and where!
[ Fingertips feel like they skim along his neck, just along the line of his collar. Immediately, he gets the sensation of cool silk and the gentle rustle of cotton, warmth kindling in his chest and crawling up to fill his lungs.
In return, there's the impression of light filtered through rose windowpanes, sprays of pink and lavender arrayed across the floor. It catches on her hair, burnishing the gold to a bronze, limning her eyelashes to look like the small, feathery rays of the sun. There's a hitch of breath, salt on his tongue, and the certainty of a soft landing. ] Alright, alright, I take your point. Next time I need to get out of my head, I know who to ask.
[Kalmiya doesn't tend to deal in expectations, but many things remain particularly unexpected, despite her easygoing attitude. Like the warm wash of sensory delight that is Arthur's memory of the pink room, tinting the shared mental space in the hues he'd picked just for her. The light flatters him now just as much as it did when she had him gasping beneath her.
It's unclear whether the answering warming of her face springs from the same memory, or if it's something new. Regardless, her grin softens to a smile, the corners of her eyes relaxed with sentimental affection. It's more relief than tease when she says,] Good. You spend too much time in there, anyway.
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Date: 2026-02-06 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-02-06 05:41 am (UTC)She does neither. For now.] So if I spelled it out with my tongue, that would be all right?
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Date: 2026-02-06 05:56 am (UTC)But, he thinks there's something else underneath. What, he isn't sure. Nothing concerning, at least. ]
I won't say no, if you're offering to revisit our time in the pink room.
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Date: 2026-02-06 06:15 am (UTC)Affection thrums within the shaking boughs of the trees as she grins up at him.] As far as I'm concerned, you've got an open invitation. Just tell me when and where!
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Date: 2026-02-10 05:43 am (UTC)In return, there's the impression of light filtered through rose windowpanes, sprays of pink and lavender arrayed across the floor. It catches on her hair, burnishing the gold to a bronze, limning her eyelashes to look like the small, feathery rays of the sun. There's a hitch of breath, salt on his tongue, and the certainty of a soft landing. ] Alright, alright, I take your point. Next time I need to get out of my head, I know who to ask.
🎀
Date: 2026-02-19 05:37 am (UTC)It's unclear whether the answering warming of her face springs from the same memory, or if it's something new. Regardless, her grin softens to a smile, the corners of her eyes relaxed with sentimental affection. It's more relief than tease when she says,] Good. You spend too much time in there, anyway.