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Vincent (king_of_gods) wrote in paxletalelogs,

"She should be, it's business. We haven't discussed the being together shit. I do love her. I am capable of love contrary to popular belief. I have love for everyone in my life, I even love you. I also believe it doesn't make me any less of who I am, or anyone any less of what they are to me, for me to be who I am, and do what I want. I live life with passion and a sense of urgency. I pursue happiness, and I'm pleased with very little."

That admission was sent into the air between them to linger like the billowing, uncoiling smoke that unrolled like a gray kitten from its slumber and tumbled down the slopes of the reddened, dim illumination that painted everything amorously and a little wicked, spread upon the couch. A kinked tongue wet the corner of his mouth, where perceived was left a lick of vodka, and he overlooked the hose with his fingers until it was stole gently. Long ago he'd unlocked the little fingers that had been fixed in his, so as to both secure his drink and prepare for his turns on the spearmint. Drumming it a moment with a chamfered brow, the shape of the furrow softened in recalling an appropriate quote to share, once again.

"And clearly, fortune favors the brave. My dad just thought a partner would be good for me. But enough for now. Your turn."

Smoke brought in, fulfilled the chasm of his rising chest and stayed a while, he wondered how he was going to mend all of his transgressions, ah, worry on that later, he'd thought. Until it as before, that gray ribbon released from his lips poured out, and grinned at her in the dark.