I Had Planned To Queue A Few Replies But I'm Actually Still Too Giggly.

i had planned to queue a few replies but i'm actually still too giggly.

Nesta Archeron by mytholympus [instagram]

i’m a lover. AND a biter

nesta looks him up and down as he approaches, just once, as if her interest in his form is only casual. it is compared to the way she's swept up by the sound of his laughter; it calls to her like a song from her childhood — one that she'll never tire of hearing. less torture. she wonders about that for a moment... what it would look like, if it's something he'd ever want, if he let himself. but curiosity evaporates once he's in her orbit again. instinctively she takes another step closer, turning just a fraction to glance at the dress he's picked. of course with his attention to detail he has an eye for fashion. although she's never worn the dress, she can already envision how it will look; the way it will embellish every curve and contour, the deep plunge of the neckline. 

"i don't recall saying anything about ripping. in fact i was thinking of something more methodical… RITUALISTIC, even.” the words are laced with a smirk, one meant to hide the thrill she finds in being given a list of what he likes about her... that her sharp tongue ranks among them. it would be enough to bring her to tears on a bad day - but it’s decidedly good. the sound of azriel's laughter still echoes in her ears, laced with his compliments. they reverberate through her like an orchestra. she wants to say to hell with whatever it is they’re supposed to be doing in the hewn city in just a few short hours (wanted to say to hell with it regardless) but she resists. runs her fingers along midnight silk thoughtfully.

“i don’t care if we ruin every last one of them.” there was a time when she would have. it wasn’t so long ago that would daydream about the jewels she’d one day adorn herself with. the things she cares about now are infinitely more important, and occupy her thoughts in far more interesting ways. “— but if you like this one so much perhaps we should be more careful. hike it up instead of tearing it off... or keep the remnants for other uses.” 

he watches her fingers still on the dress, its emerald color sparkling in the light of day from the window. he can feel her mood even with her back turned to him. the fact he delighted her brings a smirk to his beautiful face. when she glances back, he catches her gaze and holds it. his head tilts in a predatory manner. the whole look is thrown to the wind when she speaks. laughter, true laughter, erupts from him as he throws his head back. " no, i don't believe so. i think i would have to resort to less torture if that were an option. " less torture, less blood. azriel slides from the bed, unashamed in his nudity before her. he casually walks to her, reaching past her to move a few of the dresses. " if i'm to rip you from the dress, choose one that you don't care to ruin. " he speaks to her standing below him, and pulls out a dress of midnight blue, low cut. azriel admires the fabric and craftsmanship. such a pity if he tears the seams. " i do not wish to objectify you, because it is your mind, wit, and sharp tongue that fuels my desire for you, nesta, but this one... "

during my walk with my dog i said “wait there, good boy” and a man stopped and turned around???

so he has noticed. her eyes flit across his face, from his strong brow, to cheekbones so sharp they just may draw blood if she dared to touch, down to his full lips and back (very quickly back) to his. it’s her turn now to blush, but she sinks her teeth into the inside of her cheek for a few moments – encouraging the blood to rush anywhere but the surface of her skin. it’s nearly impossible when the low thrum of his voice seems to nestle against her flesh, warming her from within. 

“yes,” she tells him, with a slight tilt of her head. “you’re one of the few things here that i don’t loathe to look at, so when you’re in my line of sight i simply enjoy the moment.” it’s an understatement of his beauty; of velaris’ beauty too. she turns her eyes up towards the silver lit skies and across the sidra to the glow of warm homes in the distance. in truth it’s a place full of beauty and peace, but she isn’t. witnessing it whilst sober reminds her of how little she belongs, so she tries not to look. instead she takes another sip of her wine, her expression bordering on smug. she relishes in feeling like she can reveal her thoughts to azriel without them travelling. at least, she doesn’t think he’ll repeat them. he’s a spy, not a busy body.

“and what are you doing over here, all alone? surely not waiting for me to argue with you about who out of the two of us is the prettiest.” 

there is heat in his gaze when she speaks but it is quickly masked and snuffed out. how is she able to sneak past his walls like this? perhaps she is not sneaking at all, but merely knocking and he allows her entry without thought. dangerous. such a dangerous thing.

" i don't go searching for it, nesta. " he speaks low, the goblet in his own hand barely drank out of. azriel then takes a long pull of it - he knows he's going to need it. " and just because i know i'm the most beautiful of my brothers doesn't mean when a beautiful women tells me i am, i still do not react. " a small ghost of a smirk takes his full lips, though it's over as soon as it began. " is this why you look upon me so often? "