diana emitted a twinkling laugh at luce’s surprised shout in italian. she was in unusually good spirits, all thanks to her friends champagne and tequila — a DEADLY combination which made for the most agreeable version of diana. the version that engaged in a shot competition with whichever brave soul dared take her on, that danced ‘til her toes went numb, and that, inevitably, desired luce’s full and complete attention.
lip caught between her teeth and eyes a hue darker than the night itself, diana let her hands glide greedily over luce’s upper arms, stopping only when they came upon her shoulders. even inebriated, the two were as in sync as always, their bodies moving together in a way that would make anyone else on the dance floor jealous ( and diana hoped it did ). she hummed at the little kiss on her jaw, savoring the HEAT that lingered on her skin from luce’s lips. “did you miss me?”
diana’s laugh bounced animatedly in the warm, vibrating air between them, and mingled with the rhythm of their alcohol-laden breaths; there was room enough in luce’s inebriated brain to wonder whether — if someone tried — could someone set the room aflame with everyone’s drunken exhalations? probably not, but it’d be a pretty good way to say you created drago— what? after shaking off that ridiculous train of thought, she grinned wolfishly at the woman suddenly so driven in attaining her attentions; as everyone should, granted ( she’ll have you know that she is a sweet treat and she is delightful to be around ) but it was always best, and sweetest, when her wife was the one doing the pursuing.
warming her body with her hands, and looking it over with those eyes of hers, a double layer of attention as they so naturally fell in step; she could feel the jealousy of the others around them, and fed gladly off of it, and the slight approval that fell from her wife’s lips. diana fiore’s approval was a currency rare as gold.
“i always miss you,” her lips shifted back up to steal a kiss, “but you knew that.”
