BEXLEY BRIAR
Should’ve known he’d be a fucking pill today - too masculine to pick flowers comfortably, too proud to admit she’s done her job well. Too stoic to ever crack a damn smile. As the minutes pass, Bexley can’t help her frustration heightening, the warmth in her chest growing to an uncomfortable heat. The sideways gazes she keeps flicking at him grow harsher and harsher. She wants them to get along. It shouldn’t be this hard, but it is. Impossible, actually, to get anywhere when he’s so damn stubborn, although Bexley can’t say much in defense of her own obdurate ways.
No, she says finally at the mention of his customs. All gold and jewels for me. A dry smile crosses Bexley’s lips, splitting those bone-white lips without any semblance of real humor. And of course, the gruff no flowers that follows has her rolling her eyes, so expected, so disappointing, that her only reply is a huff as she drops the flower from her mouth and starts, already, to step away. Let him go brood, wherever his man-cave is. She’ll go hang out with Eden or Rhoswen or anyone else, dripping in those gold and jewels, not breaking her back to carry some bullshit conversation. With a dismissive flick of one ear she turns back to face the open desert, but is stopped in her tracks by what he says next.
They might... look nice in your hair.
A roguish smirk overtakes Bexley’s masked face, and, half surprised, half blindingly satisfied, she glances upward to follow his ascent to the sky. To the clouds she blows a sarcastic kiss that she knows will never catch him, and, unbothered by it, starts again on her trek into the desert.
@maxence we outtie
