@in-every-generation (amythest) sent: ∗ 14﹕ sender places their head in receiver’s lap .
FINGERS LACE WITHIN TRESSES OF HAIR as an instant response, a gentle hum soon to follow like a lullaby. There's a tenderness to the action, regardless of past discretions, treating the woman before her like the little doll she'd always saw her as. It didn't matter that such an action might have been seen in many cases as something to be despised, because in truth, this was Drusilla's language of love and affection. She knows nothing else. Devotion and security, a sense she attempts to display even in the most subtle of notions. Leaning down, she places a kiss to the top of Amythest's forehead while still caressing fingers through her hair in a slow and tender manner. ❝ Darling Dove… ❞ she whispers, ❝ do you see the poppies that grow? They grow for you, my love. Do you see them? ❞











