Sookie Stackhouse (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} stacked) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} dunwichgame, |
It was almost painful to hear him say that. Painful because it was true, a new year, a night made of promises, but the scars on his back told another story and dammit if Sookie didn't wish her arms had the strength to keep him in place, that her thoughts could will a pact to fall apart. How was it fair? To make a pact with someone else's soul? How could it be bartered so damn easily, like another piece of currency. As much as it saddened her, it enraged her far more, she could feel the rush of heated blood blooming furiously on her cheeks just thinking about it. She wanted to be light, gracefully so, joyful for him so they'd have a few moments of pretend--and it was hard, and she swallowed it down to try.
"Mmm, but I'm still gonna end up scuffing your shoes, and you'll be forlorn about that." Sookie teased faintly, her twang light and opposing to the melodies around them. She breathed in deep, his scent. Bergamot. Always bergamot, rosemary and the spicy notes of brandy. It was comforting and she pressed her cheek close, the stars in her hair twinkling.
"You know, I've never said something to you, and I keep meaning to you, but words always get in the way." Her brows went up, eyes searching but focusing on nothing around them as they moved. "Because I feel like you've heard so many words in your life, it's hard to know what's real?"