[ Cellar draws a sharp little breath as Lauralae comes closer — like this is the first, real kiss, a bite like electricity that makes her flinch without moving an inch away. The girl clings to Cellar like she could crawl under her clothes, and Cellar embraces her like she'd welcome it. There's something enchantingly contradictory about the way Lauralae seems to draw blood with elegance; Cellar instinctively licks the droplet from her lip as they part, wondering what the fuck she's doing. (She knows. She always knows.) ]
Yeah. [ Another smile; fond, almost, as she starts to walk the smaller figure toward the nearest wall, patiently pressing her back to it before closing the distance. ] Just one more.
no subject
Yeah. [ Another smile; fond, almost, as she starts to walk the smaller figure toward the nearest wall, patiently pressing her back to it before closing the distance. ] Just one more.
[ Then she's getting on her knees. ]