Lukas took up residency with the T-rex once more when she reenacted the lesson with a drunken hobo's verve. Quite the quick learner. He chased away his grin with a final mouth full of sake, dropping the cup beside his flannel'd knee and leaning back on the heel of a work blistered hand to witness the invisible script of her graffiti on the wall. He imagined a darkness that could seep from the bed of her nail and infect the plaster; like tar, like hate. D. E. A. . .
Frowning, he leaned in to pull at her wrist, twisting her capture in the careful wrought iron gate of his fingers, coaxing her palm to sedation and bringing her a little nearer with a serious, but no less weary, tension in his eyes. Dead?
He wanted to sign smile for her, to remind her of the deal they'd made on that first meeting. Did she not envision it as a promise? Well, too bad; she'd taken the money, now she was bound.
Rather than sign on himself, Lukas extended his hands toward her slowly. With all the caution of a ranger releasing a wolverine from a trap. Effortless delicacy took the pads of scarred fingers across hell's pale gate, tracing the demoness bow of her lips and then out toward the cheeks. Smile, smile.
Further across the starry purgatory of her complexion, his fingers got lost and went dipping into the ink well of her hair. Tucking bits of burnt black behind her ears, and somehow finding himself rising up to meet her with the suddenness of a craven kiss.