you don't talk to no one, don't you look at nothin'

[verbrannt]

No one's gonna love you
No one's gonna touch you
No one's gonna look at you the way that I do
No one's gonna save you
Use you up and break you
I'm the one you pray to every night 'cause you're mine

Comments

[woodspurge]

Lark doesn't ask about the scars, but neither does she treat them like something to avoid unless Astrid asks her to.

She laughs breathlessly as she's pushed onto the bed. Lark moves higher along the mattress, her eyes still intent on Astrid as the other woman gets out of her clothes. She's still smiling when she's pulled into a kiss. Her hands caress over Astrid's cheeks and down her neck and she breathes in sharply as Astrid's knee pushes between her legs. The promise of pressure makes her ache and she thinks she'd rub herself off against Astrid's leg if that's what she wanted.

"Please," she murmurs, voice warmer and heavier as arousal floods her. Even as Astrid makes that declaration, Lark leans closer to press a kiss between Astrid's breasts as she hovers over her.

[verbrannt]

For a brief moment, the tender touch flashes another memory to the front of her mind, so strong and visceral that Astrid nearly turns to look for someone else behind her. Her chest clenches for the space of a heartbeat before the pain passes; it's been well over a decade since it's ever been more than one person with her like this.

She fights the memory back once more, grinding her knee against the heat between Lark's legs and tugging a little at her hair just to feel the tension in it. Her other hand is already shifting skirts out of the way, already too impatient to find the ties or clasps to loosen them and instead trailing fingertips along a soft, inner thigh. Gods, when was the last time she had gotten to do this?

Her hand eventually replaces her knee, exploring, rubbing, watching and listening hungrily for the sounds loosed from Lark's pretty lips. She should have done this weeks ago.