ā© --- LAST ONE BUT LI @ KEN BC ! ! ! !
affections ā„ļø ā Ā @shizibandeāā ā not acceptingĀ !
ā© Ā Grooming, brushing, or tending to their hair.
Ā Ā Ā Ā one of his favourite type of evenings entails him laying between her legs, arms wrapped loosely around her torso as his head rest comfortably on her chest, the feeling of nimble fingers COMBING through shagged hair constantly attempting at lulling him into hushed slumber. heād close his eyes, loving every minute brush of contact-- the soft touch a stark CONTRAST to the usual, rough look she wore with such glory & beauty ( one that, to his own surprise, found himself not hating the idea of seeing-- experiencing-- more of it ).
Ā Ā Ā Ā while sheās busy tending to his hair-- something he found she particularly enjoyed ( & he as well, despite his previous complaints )-- his own fingers slowly traced whatever SCARRED skin that came within view, picturing & imagining the battles she mustāve experienced, struggled & survived to obtain them. but alas, silence stretches as he finds himself quietly nodding off once in a while, her homey smell, the feeling of her WARMTH soothing whatever fatigue heād been building up that day.
Ā Ā Ā Ā as the urge to fall asleep arises, much like a child fighting for attention, the grip around her tightens as he speaks-- & when he does, ā stay. ā is the only word he says. the only word he needs to say. he was sure she didnāt need an explanation, a lengthy EXCUSE, to convey what he meant by his single command ( plead ). he knew sheād know full well what heād meant, satisfied that he was now well aware that sheād want that too. after all, they werenāt in a hurry-- god no, both of them were well past that stage of juvenile curiosity. this ? this was fine, just as it was. him in her arms, her fingers grooming his hair, a moment theyāve both oh soĀ DESPERATELY fought for, an occasion coming & going at their own pace, unaware & uncaring of whatever errand the world may have in store for them.
