‘ what’ve you got ? is that gin ? where’d you dig that up ? ’ - legatumne
SYLPHIC BOY, PETAL - STAINED breath e s c a p e s to the trill of laughter, bubbling s o u n d erupting ( effervescent ) to break the STAGNANT air. his head turns, eyes ALIGHT as they shift, growing brighter && brighter to CRYSTALLINE blue as they SETTLE on the curves of the potter’s face. ‘ i NICKED it from your da’s cabinet. ‘
a toothy GRIN then as he drinks, lips w r a p p i n g around the rim, cheeks h o l l o w i n g as he takes a drink. it BURNS it’s way down && he loves it, the feeling of WILDFLOWER slithering, tendrils of flame winding down his t h r o a t . he swallows, then a PINK tongue makes it’s entrance, licking out over the RIM before flicking over BLOSSOM lips, catching lingering vestiges of liquor like DEW DROPS over roses. eyes grow DARK, lips grow RED, && he considers the other. ‘ you can’t have any, though. WOULDN’T want to be a b a d influence, now, would i ? ‘
