Sunday six
It’s Sunday and I bring you pain *cackles*
Jerott grasped the shower fitting with his hands and bowed his head, letting the water form its channels and runnels against his skin, working below his soaking clothes, washing away all the smell and touch of the previous night.
He didn't hear the door open; didn't notice anyone until the toilet flushed and he looked up and saw Marthe washing her hands at the basin, still dressed for Oonagh's party, still grimly disappointed with him.
Why, then, did his heart leap at the sight of her?
"I missed you," he said over the sound of the water.
Marthe looked at his sodden clothes, her mouth a bent line of disgust. "And do you suppose this is the final scene in a movie? It looks like you found ways to occupy yourself nonetheless."
ok maybe not just pain but also Nice Things like pretty ladies singing pretty songs to sleepy children
Marthe had her back to her, blonde streaks of hair trickling carelessly free of her scrunchie. The cupid tattooed on her neck smiled demurely from behind this golden curtain and the features of her back stood prominent beneath the thin white tank top she wore. On one of the pale hills of her shoulders rested a small head with curls a little frostier than hers. Cai's feet dangled free over her right arm, and as Oonagh approached she saw that the boy's eyes were closed and his thumb was tucked contentedly in his mouth. Marthe swayed a little, her head turned to the boy's face as she sang.
