[She groans, head tipping back for long moments as she leans into his hands, and the sound she makes is distinctly inhuman, a buzzing rasp underneath the more familiar vocals, like a rattlesnake's tail or clicking pincers. When her good eye flicks open again, she takes the edge of his shirt collar in both hands.]
no subject
[She groans, head tipping back for long moments as she leans into his hands, and the sound she makes is distinctly inhuman, a buzzing rasp underneath the more familiar vocals, like a rattlesnake's tail or clicking pincers. When her good eye flicks open again, she takes the edge of his shirt collar in both hands.]
Tell me you aren't attached to this.
[So she can rip it off.]