b e x l e y
the merry girl who became lot's bride, the happy woman who loved her wicked city;
T
hey stand so close and so far apart in the crowd—utterly stubborn, one and the same, as so many throngs of bodies move in between them like water. Bexley tilts her head up and watches with eyes warm and dark, like so much drowning in a wine-dark sea. The air is thick with warmth and the ashy smell of incense that pools inside her nostrils and burns deep into her throat.She grins when Minya turns to meet her gaze. Grins with shark teeth, grins with a predator’s self-assurance. There is nothing that surprises her about the fact that she’s successfully persuaded the stranger to stay. At least for now.
Minya’s hair floats in the wind, so many silver ribbons. Her eyes shine quicksilver in the dim, dim light. The distance between them closes oh-so-slowly, and Bexley’s eyes follow her steps—the way she moves like a snake, the soft sway of her hips, how she dips her head and looks up at the Solterran girl with a gaze that smolders hotter than any fire. A shiver rides up her spine with almost painful intensity. And in the pit of her stomach heat begins to pool, sizzling deep-down into her bones.
So what do you have for me?
And oh, Bexley smirks, so terribly confident, so infuriatingly beautiful. Her whole face turns into a marker of that smile—eyes gleaming, teeth shining, cheeks stricken with the suggestion of dimples. She can nearly feel Minya’s breath warm on her cheek; the smell of their perfume mingles in the air between them, soft as a cloud. Jasmine and nightsmoke and dark tears of myrrh. Her heart pounds.
“I have everything.” Her eyes glow-dark. Gold seeps from the corners of her mouth. Under the dark carpet of lashes, her gaze never wavers from Minya’s, divinely intense. “For I am all of those—queen, goddess, witch—and more. You may have had them all, but not at once.”
Her lazy smile deepens, a noise like a purr builds in the back of her throat. Slowly she reaches forward, and her breath gusts over Minya’s neck, oh-so-lightly, as if it were only an accident.
It never is.
@Minya | "speaks" | notes: <3
