ᵃᵘᵗᵒᵖˡᵃʸ ,

sentence meme  ( innuendo version ) ,accepting!!

          and though a rather impressive glare is thrown Christian’s way, and that somehow it manages to lack any real VENOM behind it, Ira's eyes still hold a certain INDIGNITY at being told how to stretch out his muscles as if he were a small child who didn’t know any better. 

      being caught was NOT an option ; ; never to admire the crimson art, she would remain        with pounds of rotting flesh in her swollen belly. her expression is sullen, HOLLOWED        as if she disappointed & lithe, deadly DEMONS refused to disappoint. sweeping polish         over her nail before capping it again. eyes turn darker, hunger blooms nigh. 

                                         ❛     does that make you SAD ?      ❜

          sad wouldn’t have been he word he’d have used, but even before he registers her EXPRESSION the word  “   disappointed   ”  rejects leaving his lips. mix them together and he’d feel too much like  (   his   )  a father. so midnight fingers drop the glass bottle and he chooses words similar  --  but with less of a BITE. and with more a hint of teasing. 

             there’s a TENSION in Ira’s bones still, and a twist in his gut  --  this is all so new  (   to BOTH of them, even,   )  and he’s nowhere near used to it yet, doesn’t think he’ll ever really be. so long has he been a mere WATCHER on the wall, that the soft strands of hair beneath his fingers feel like an alien material. despite having ran them through his own almost every single day of his life.

             his breaths escape him even only because he’s putting every effort in to keep them measured. at the end of the day he knows that at least fifty percent of his fears have been self inflicted, he drew himself away, worried himself about it for too long that it only grew larger and larger inside him. and he knows that he can do this.

          because he’s here now. they’re here now.

          and he FIGHTS with himself not to run away.

             for a long moment he doesn’t respond to Christian’s words. can’t respond. his throat so TIGHT it feels as though he hasn’t had a single drop of water in weeks. but he closes his eyes, he counts to ten inside his head, and focuses solely on his breathing. on his fingers  --  but not too intently on the knowledge of what they feel.

          and when he opens them again, he tries for a smile.  ‘   for what?   ’  

          and though it’s hard, he stays there, still.

“everlost” sentence starters ,accepting!

             a single ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙᴇᴀᴛ pulsates between them, and then:  (   ‘ ah! apologies, ’   )  quick as a BLINK, drops from his lips. and when he moves closer, it is to crouch down and retrieve what his, unintentionally, SUDDEN appearance had made her drop.