STRANGE TRAILS

A sound of something low and trapped strains in his throat before he lets his palms smooth along the tops of her bare thighs; that ravenous look only taking on a sharper edge. “Show me.” He wanted it to be a request, a question much softer than he delivered – but it's a low and husked bite. “ C’mon love, show me how you fuck yourself when you think of me? “

the diner had excellent pancakes and bacon — by a tipsy person's standards. she felt the syrup on her lower lip before the other said anything, and yet marnie was looking. thumb swipes and is drawn between her lips to clean it. a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as her thumb withdraws. the tips of her ears pinken as she speaks, ❝ i think it's polite tell someone if they have food on their mouth not stare at it. i'm embarrassed now, so thank you. ❞ there's no malice in her voice, just a playful lilt. she reaches for the cup of coffee and takes a sip. sobering up some was her main priority. a little bit of buzz could remain, but nothing more. ❝ how's yours? ❞ eyes break from holding marnie's gaze and sweep down her face to her mountain of fries and gravy. she doesn't know her companion very well and still, she dares to snatch a fry from where it stuck out on the edge of her plate. maybe the ease of their conversation emboldened her. or maybe she didn't care if it got her into some kind of trouble with the other. it wouldn't be very serious and she found she liked taunting her.

MUCH  AS  SHE'D  LIKE  TO  DENY  THE  WOLF  BENEATH  HER  SKIN,  the  moon  comforts  her  bones  on  wearier  nights.  evenings  she'd  rather  wear  a  scowl  than  anything  else,  biting  at  the  head  and  heels  of  anyone  trying  to  make  nice,  and  yet  here  she  was,  out  on  a  complete  limb.  and  caught  staring,  the  thing  she  loathed  most  about  people,  she  was  drawn  in  slowly,  more  slowly,  to  look  up.  ❛ i'm  not  very  polite.  ❜  her  skin  doesn't  reflect  the  sudden  wash  of  nerves,  but  her  smile  stretched  upward,  parted  with  a  chuff  of  laughter  when  she  watched  a  fry  get  snatched  up.  ❛ see,  we  can  call  it  even  now  because  you  just  committed  an  egregious  crime.   ❜  oh,  but  marnie  would  let  it  slide  more  than  a  few  times,  to  be  truthful.  it's  good  to  feel  a  spark  of  anything,  AND  THIS  ONE  SITS  LOW  AND  WARM  IN  HER  BELLY,  FLUTTERING.  ❛  it's  good.  i  used  to  bring  my  little  sister  here  sometimes,  so  we've  made  our  way  through  the  menu.  ❜  she  wants  to  know  so  much  more  about  stevie.  this  kind  of  sentiment  hadn't  taken  root  in  her  soul  for  god  knows  how  long,  and  that  old  fuck  wasn't  listening  either  way.  ❛   but  i  actually  thought  you'd  be  more  of  a  waffle  kind  of  woman.   ❜

where the storm meets the sunrise, I choose you every time.

the stick pokes in just that bit deeper, his knuckles turning pale with that grip on the wheel, chewing on his bottom lip should he say something that he couldn't take back. he'd have to thank his father one day for that temper he inherited. came in mighty handy. “ not thinking anything foul of you― maybe that fucking jackass behind the bar. maybe about myself. but not you. you're in my head enough as it is. ” and it was going so well, until that smile she gave the blonde flashed across the back of his mind, and suddenly that truck was hot once gain. stop thinking about it, jealously is a right you don't have after all. casual― simple, not complicated― that was the deal. “― course looks like you were on someone else's' mind too. ” and there nate went and made it complicated.

gloria's  smile  dropped.  she  might  have  chirped  back  something  clever  if  it  didn't  hurt.  that  little  ache  growing  inside  her  chest  doesn't  spell  uncomplicated;  it  doesn't  paint  a  mystique  of  casual  involvement,  and  it  sure  as  hell  doesn't  clarify  how  deep  this  all  really  cuts  between  them.  ❛  nate—  ❜  she  hates  how  small  she  sounds.  her  mind  wraps  and  warps  around  the  night,  every  touch,  and  every  sentiment  of  filth  whispered  in  his  ear.  every  ounce  of  need  to  be  near  him  drives  her  thoughts,  both  conscious  and  subconscious.  ❛  and  even  if  that  were  true,  WHY  WOULD  YOU  CARE?  ❜  that  pang  hits  her  again.  ribs  cracked  open  more.  she'd  faced  down  things  that  would  make  a  grown  man  piss  himself  in  fear,  lived  in  the  isolation  of  melancholy  built  by  a  mausoleum  of  kin,  and  for  some  reason,  she  was  more terrified  of  losing  what  wasn't  even  hers.  ❛  i  don't  want  anyone  else,  and  i  know  we  said  it  was  casual,  but  it's  never  been  that  way,  AND  YOU  KNOW  IT.  ❜

"Oh, I wouldn't have."

it wasn't long before he got near to the farm. old, well-loved, but clearly still inhabited. shit. it's as if the horse intuited his intentions just as the likely owner was approaching, with gun in hand. sweeney was bucked. he landed with a very solid thud into the grassy pasture. so much for escaping this fate. if he died before making it to new orleans, shadow's dead wife would just have to figure this shit out on her own. he sat up gingerly on his elbows and one hand left to give a wave. his body screamed defeat. ❝ hey there, i, uh, was goin' to borrow yer horse, but ya see how well that worked out for me. ❞

the  shotgun  lowered,  and  something  strange  tugs  at  her  psyche.  some  oddity,  surely,  recognition  with  no  roots  to  hold,  ancient  and  fleeting  as  a  song  she  couldn't  recall  the  melody  of.  this  man  was  a  stranger;  of  that  she  knew  with  absolute  certainty.  gloria  could  still  feel  the  thread  tug  beneath  her  ribs,  pulling  open  scars  unseen,  and  it  was  gone  before  she  could  name  it.  all  that  remains  is  the  faintest  crease  knit  between  her  brows.  a  slow,  dry  chuckle.  ❛  worst  fucking  horse  BORROWER   i've  ever  seen.  ❜ she  extends  a  hand  to  the  would-be  thief.  ❛  c'mon.  before  he  decides  he's  got  another  lesson  to  teach  you.  might  as  well  look  you  over  before  i  kick  your  ass  to  the  curb.  ❜ 

Lord Huron - Who Laughs Last