Combustion
01-15-2014, 04:43 PM
He would await patiently for the beige babe to respond, and when she finally did she would question their status- friend, or foe. An amused chuckle would part charcoal lips as cold gaze aimed to align with the vixens. Now why would she ask a question like that the moment they met? "You decide, miss auburn." Alluring beckons would call the woman forth, prickled tongue caressing the monarch's slightly parted lips. The corners tweaked into a glamorous grin, ivory fangs glistening in the fading moonlight. She still hadn't answered his question, so he would repeat himself, leaving only a few seconds pause between his sentences. "Again, where have you come from?" He would not change the subject until he had acquired an answer, for the man was stubborn, relentless, and wanted to know where this femme had come from. |
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