#breathes.......... hello... welcome back

         were there a tie to complete his pseudo - formal attire, she’d undoubtedly be tugging on it and dragging him down to her height to level a rather unfair playing field.  for now, she’s content with splaying her hands across his chest, fingers hitching into the fabric of his button - down, the skin beneath imprinted by the outline of her nails.  thin lips tug into a self - assured smirk, head tilting slightly to one side.        ‘ i think the marks you left speak for themselves.  my back looks like a war zone. ’