hmmm...
sipping my drink; looking around
sits at the bar; orders my usual; tall rum and coke; twist of lime
Getting a Dr Pepper from mona
It's ok he started then left
come towoodhome
you are invited
(i offered the room
i been there
so i offer)
Yes
oh cherry c
sorry to know that
wanna chat for a while?
Looks in
Don't bother just another timewaster
*shaking my head*not sure why I engaged with that, very clearly, intellect-devoid cretin
*relaxing on my sofa*
(can offer this girl's Home for You both. pvt. but your play will be erased after it ends.)
Stopping in
The Blanc Residence
Holly, hands up like surrender."Moratorium," she offered back in a one-word confirmation like she was all too happy to take a break from all of this problem-solving, of playing the mental models for any antagonists in your internal dialogue.
That brain-worm that whispered shames and doubts, invading the most sacred space of your thoughts and desires where one should feel free to explore your feelings, your truths.
Of course right after that moratorium, Holly was faced with a rough hypothetical from you, and she had no answer other than to loft her brows as if to echo back the moratorium they just agreed to.
"That's… well t-that's…"
Just what you feel in the moment, Holly was about to say. To suggest there was nothing here that wasn't worth a second visit and consideration. This was the safest place she knew, and that meant the floor was theirs to let the water drift. Standing at the shoreline with the inevitability of the tide was, itself, a decision.
Converse to the inertia of the moment outside of the rehearsal hall and afterparty, your motion on that sinking, grasping couch earned the slow gasp of her glacial focus that rinsed warm through her in anticipation.
"you can make it a thing…"
Whose rules was anyone really following, anymore, and her consent and participation was absolutely no mystery as within the last few inches, she moved a slow eyes-closed contradiction against the race of her heart, the rising cradle of her pearlescent fingertips into the plains of your nape and the other trekking for buttons.
You already paid the emotional toll of guilt and shame — so fuck it, you may as well indulge.
Prowling, more like it.
Rm decision
Wandering and wondering.