#eclipsedt

There is expert ease in how he binds Toshiro's wrists, even when using something prosaic like a necktie; his extended arms tied to the intricate designs of the headboard while assuming a kneeling position on the bed. Practise makes perfect, counting hedonistic occasions such as this... and then others that remain harrowingly unmentionable. Thus, should his esteemed partner-in-crime try to break free, he'd find so to be impossible.

@eclipsedt: ❛ If you're going to restrain both of my hands, then you'll have to pour the wine directly into my mouth. ❜

"Fair enough." Sultry whispers and a cursory kiss bestowed upon Toshiro's shoulder, smirking against his bare skin with indulgent delight. Casual pace, no rush, unravelling slowly. Although, Antonin's hair is already loose and somewhat dishevelled, white button-down shirt half open, a couple of love bites blooming down his neck and chest like blushing rosebuds amid the thorns of old scars on his pale skin.

He doesn't bother with a glass; he picks up the bottle of Champagne from the ice bucket and brings it back with him, standing by the bed now. He takes then a generous swig from the bottle without swallowing, his hand moving to Toshiro's jaw and keeping it in place; fingers pressing between his lips to force them open...

Sweet liquor dribbles from his mouth into Toshiro's parted lips.

"Are you satisfied?" Another sultry whisper, staring down at him with hungry eyes and a dripping wet smile. "I hope not."

He hopes this will last as long as humanly possible.

"...A-Cheng, you could make the whole world rain looking like that." But her heart is fond, smile curling at her lips with the force of it - and she reaches out to pat her brother's head, a gesture that she'd grown used to doing COUNTLESS times and found difficult now, because he's all GROWN UP. They're both all grown up - and there is a sliver of envy that lives in her heart along with the flood of sympathy for him, that he will ALWAYS be here, tied to their childhood home, every ripple and every lily pad. Her own world is changing rapidly - deep violets migrating lighter and lighter to lavender and then lilac and then pink and one day GOLD. Perhaps that's what's making it all the more real. "...Your sister's just getting married. It's not like I'm never coming back again."

atsumu,  arms behind his head,   laying beside her,   speaks his words into the night’s sky:     “   out here,  at night,   i feel like a kid again.    ”

VAMPIRE CRINGE || accepting.

"Is it?" He hums, albeit without letting go of Setiel's hand.

Something of an impulsive gesture: reaching over and taking this dichotomic being's hand, entertaining the idea of biting his wrist — refraining from doing so. Not now. Not yet.

Cold, Setiel said. It might be true... and an issue easy enough to solve by willing his blood to run warmer. Crimson in its mundane colour and all that he truly is, far beyond any shape or form.

ASKBOX PROMPTS || always accepting.

"Are YOU feeling creative?"

Deadpan serious, despite the remark's insolent absurdity; despite the implicit challenge. He pauses, staring at him with ice-cold eyes that match his frigid countenance. Then, a smirk begins to curl his lips slightly upwards; no real aggression behind it... just... something whimsical.

ASKBOX PROMPTS || always accepting!

"You are free to come and go as you please — it should always be your decision to make."

It's a cold answer, delivered with a poignantly firm tone, albeit not an uncaring one... does she understand the difference? Probably not.

Not yet.

Rather, he isn't keen on playing this imaginary game of power struggle with a child.

It can't be a coincidence that she resorts to this at every turn, though. Every situation she deems unfavourable. (How many have taken advantage of her temper or simply ignored her?) Therefore, despite his reluctance, he still holds a sense of understanding. It's what he can offer --- whilst remaining fairly undaunted by this moody display.

"My time is infinite," as he's mentioned before; no need then to fret over absences or pauses. It's her choice, indeed. However... "Even if my patience does have a limit."

her feet are cold.  this,  of course,  is roshan’s problem.    it would be anyone’s problem,   if they were close enough to burn with cassie’s indignation,   but it’s just roshan and the shoes with the holes in the back.     “   i think they’re letting rain in,     ”     cassie says,   kicking her foot up until it was resting on the seat across from her,  the one roshan is sat on.     the diner is not her favourite place around here-   the food always smells off.   but the windows are tinted and it stays open late into the night,   so it’s where they’ve started to meet.     “   can you just check the back of the sole and see if they’re broken?    ”

something about the other seems to crinkle at this:     “   sometimes,  you’re pretty weird,   aren’t you?    ”    @eclipsedt​ says.