Acton loved nothing more than playing pretend.
Of course, the best fictions all had some grain of the truth, and his acts were no different. He was always himself -- sometimes he was just more, or less, or a step to the side. He had been a beggar, a thief, an orphan, a prisoner. And then he had taken the narrative into his own hands.
Those hands were a little bloody, now and again, and almost always dirty – but they worked for no one but himself. (And the Crows, but that was different; that was family).
Tonight he was the most stripped-down version of himself. The scents of the night markets clung to his thick hair, a deeper contrast to his companion’s lavender; he was utterly at home beside her, watching the glint of her jewelry in the moonlight when she spoke. Bodies wound around them, a chaotic, colorful shoal. It would be terribly easy to get swept up with them, with her, and to not surface again until…midnight.
Too early, in his opinion, to get to real fun.
“Ah, but I never get tired of being turned down,” he said amiably, and flicked his tail with a grin. A shout across an alleyway made him raise his head, missing any sign of her anxiety. It was nothing, just two friends meeting, but the buckskin filed away their faces when he turned his own back toward the unicorn.
A grin was quick to reappear at her suggestion, and he arched a brow. “Pretty and pragmatic,” he answered, glancing at her slant-wise in admiration. “I like you, nameless girl.” Swiftly he weighed the options, then tilted his head toward the city’s heart. “Follow me, then. I know of a place where it’s always on the house.” When he started forward, he allowed his shoulder to brush against hers, stirring up that floral scent sweet as any secret. If the contact was intentional, he made no sign of it, only continuing to weave through a night so loud with merriment they couldn’t hear their own steps.
Only after a moment did he glance back at her, noting again how well she fit here. She looked like a creature of smoke and starlight, not least because of all those scars. “Where is it you have to flee to,” he asked, “or is that another part of the spell?”
@Pavetta <3 I am sorry this took me so long! I love her, I'm already looking forward to their meeting in Dawn
these violent delights have violent ends
