1/2>Her name was Chatter, and perhaps it was everything and nothing what hid behind those bright blue eyes. There was a storm in there, of the softest and purest rivers which ran red with fire. A fury of compassion and understanding, a way which made men fear a woman who might see into their eyes and know what they had not even wanted to know themselves. How she might pluck at those secrets and bring them to life. The gentle wave of her hand and downcast eyes, she might have slipped a wand
<2/2> from her sleeve and cast a rite of passion. Maybe it was the fire in her soul that made them mad, but when she smiled, things seemed okay again. The fire of life nothing in comparison, the way she brought back to them what they had lost so long ago. Just a smile, a gentle word or helping hand. She was the strange way in which things return, and even stranger how they stay not quite as they were. She was as ever soft as the mountainside, and did all she could. The bringer back of passion.
holy shit
From this post: http://chatterbox010.tumblr.com/post/153890760525/thatoneasexualinthecorner-ishelmascarinas
