& ( fuck me up man )
Send me “&” for my muses reaction to yours tracing one of their scars.
steel blue coloured hues followed the fingertips that ran down the middle of his chest. it was evident in all of his body that he was tense, muscles all stiff as if on alert.
he had enough self control not to tear qrow’s fingers from his scars and return them to the other man’s own personal space. however, he recognised that being in a relationship, it felt weird to even think it, meant that personal space was little and trust was big.
eyelids fell shut and, even as the general tried to hide it, a shakey audible breath was released, forehead creasing as eyebrows arched in a sort of annoyance.
the coloured orbs eventually showed themselves again (but didn’t make contact with the opposite’s own crimson ones), slowly and awaiting a reaction of the negative sort.









