Styx-Blooded

                  >> 🔥 <<                 ❝        I   . .  I DON’ FUCKIN’ KNOW,    stelle.  probably ‘cuz i felt like i was bein’ a complete jackass ‘n   WORRYIN’   when y’probably had it intact.  i   . .   yeah.  i would’ve tried t’ talk y’out’ve it but  . .  at least yer back.  yer   FINE    ‘n that’s all that matters at th’ end’ve it.        ❞                   he breathes,   PINCHING   the bridge of his nose as he works on  SETTLING DOWN.   he worries to much   ———–   usually for good reason though.  this time however he felt rather    . .   FOOLISH.

   “That depends on yer definition a’ anythin’ an’ everythin’, my Little Fire…” The investor muses with a deep sigh, scarred visage curling into a crooked smile, as he flips an index over her cheek playfully. Her words fill him with subtle concern and anxiety, that much is fact. Nearly every day, it seemed like she was pushing him further away from damnation, the goal he’d sought after so desperately and puzzled him just as much as it worried him. She’d been so adamant before to turn him, and now all she did was change the subject or distract him with other delights at every chance, yet because he held unsolicited feelings for her, he felt the bizarre need to humor her. 

nonverbal starters || @ashgiven

“Clyde.”

Stella sits up as she calls him by his name (not a pet name, not sweetheart, not darling, not my favourite human, his name), a slight frown on her face.

Without another word, her hands, uncomfortably cold at the best of times, are pressed against his chest, pushing him back. She’s gentle. Everything she does with him is uncharacteristically gentle today, it’s almost like the demon wants to play at being human.

“Stay down, let me enjoy you for a bit longer…” 

                 >> 🔥 <<                 ❝       IT WASN’T.    ‘n that’s what made me worried.  y’left some note that i   didn’   see ‘cuz one’ve th’   CATS   ‘r somethin’ ate it.  i know it ain’t yer fault but  . .  shit,  jus’   TALK T’ME   first before y’take off.  s’a worry ‘n ‘m sorry fer gettin’  all upset with ya ‘bout it.        ❞                  

nonverbal starters || @goreburdened

The club’s not a place she enjoys without company, it reminds her too much of the seedier places she used to work, but she has to admit that with Nevan it’s nothing but fun, even if the redhead seems to gain the attention of one too many men. Not that she’s jealous; it’s just all too difficult to enjoy a good vibe when people so rudely interrupt.

Opting to take matters into her own hands, Stella seems to gulp down the rest of her drink all too quickly, liquid courage giving her the push she needs to stand up, shooing someone else away. 

“Dance with me.”

                 >> 🔥 <<                 ❝        TH’ FREE BOOZE AIN’T TH’   only reason ‘n y’know it,  darlin’.   yer more than jus’ th’   BOOZE   ya pour.     ❞             he muses,  coming to sit on the bar stool at the bar,  swiping the drink that she poured for him,   HUMMING   as he catches the scent of whiskey.  she knows him well and he’s   THANKFUL   for it.

                 >> 🔥 <<                 ❝       FER FUCKS  —-   i worry ‘bout ya,  stelle.  i worry ‘bout  everyone   ‘n while i know y’don’t want   anyone   t’worry ‘bout ya ‘cuz ya got a    COMPLEX    an’ a half doesn’t give ya th’ right t’kick me outta the loop.  i thought y’were   DEAD   with ya not gettin’ back t’me.  i thought y’were   GONE,   stelle   !!         ❞            

“Darling, sweetheart, baby.” She does this whenever she wants something from Clyde, loves on him just a little too hard (is love the right word? Does she feel that anymore? What else could anyone call the way her heart race?) and then asks a question she’s sure will make him angry or uncomfortable.