#stcllata

It had taken a moment for Billie to get them on, the time taken to lace the boots up only building the anticipation now that she was standing. The boots hug her legs, only a thin slice of thigh seen between where they end and where her skirt stops.

she smells of magic, a kind unfamiliar to him. the odor of it tickles his nose and makes his nostrils flare. there's a slight twitch of his pectoral muscle when her hand comes to rest on his chest, ears flicking back cautiously. he isn't used to being touched.

the bull lets out a heavy breath through his nose, allowing her palm to settle there. a moment passes, and he slowly moves to grasp her wrist with his roughened fingers; neither pulling her away or moving her hand elsewhere. ears swivel forward and he locks eyes, breathing quietly. it's almost a stare-down, but not quite.

key's cheeks flush at his words , and she gently slides one of her hands down to bazyli's - bringing it up so he can feel the warmth in her cheek , know that he's made her blush . she smiles , letting him feel the movement of her cheek with the expression before she's turning her head to press a kiss to the middle of his palm . bazyli has always been perfect in that with his lack of vision , he's never minded how clingy and tactile of a person she tends to be . ❝ you're my absolute favorite person in this world , bazyli . you always have been . ❞

Spicy Prompts

No battle was ever easy.

It was an easy assumption to make; based on his capabilities and well-publicized accomplishments, to think he 'sleepwalked' through most fights. Why wouldn't he, he can imagine someone asking, he is Superman! He can leap over a tall building in a single bound, most crime is child's play to him!

If only it were ever that easy.

Every fight is a series of could have's and should have's. He could have arrived faster, ended it quicker, caused less damage than he had intended.

Living in a world of cardboard...

Frustration. That was it at the end of the day. Frustrations over his self-criticisms, the added intensity and rush of adrenaline and exertion. It built up all too quick, and so often did it need release.

A feeling, as it turned out, that his dance partner could relate to.

It all happened so fast. Flying over vast distances to vent his frustrations, to stumble upon Koriand'r fired up by the very same emotions.

Bring a matchstick near gasoline and things were destined to burn.

" I take it I am interrupting something then? " He needed a place to rest even if it was just for a few moments. After walking all day, out of choice on this occasion, his thighs ached and he only had half of his water left - after a short break he'd start his walk home.