I'M ON A FUCKING (OOC) ROLL.
I barely ship them, but this is starting to become so addictive.
Shorter this time.
Again, I don't own anything.
09. Marks
He had scars. (She did too, of course.) Small scars, large scars, jagged scars, straight scars.
From battles, mostly. A long one where a lance had grazed his back.
A deep one across his shoulder from a rather tall swordsman.
She liked them, somehow. It didn't make any sense, she knew.
They were signs of pain. Of him getting hurt.
Pretty much her least favorite thing in the world.
Maybe she liked them because they were like signs of his determination
to stay alive. God, if he died, she might just commit suicide for the sole purpose
of beating the shit out of him in the afterlife.
10. Delicious
Norway took great, sadistic delight in his wincing as she made a small theatre production
out of eating her pastry, complete with a full soundtrack of moaning.
11. Astronomer
Four blue eyes looked up at the sky.
"That's a lion, for sure."
"Don't be ridiculous. It's a bear. No mane."
"So? Girl lions don't have manes."
"It's also lacking a tail."
"Bullshit, the tail's right there."
"If that's a tail, I have a dick."
"I always thought you were too ballsy to be a girl."
Smack.
"What the fuck? That was practically a compliment."
". . . ."
You thought Marks would be about hickeys, didn't you, you peeeeerv.