Date: 2018-03-12 06:25 am (UTC)
originallutece: in the friscalating dusklight (talk; and they rode on)
No, I suppose not.

[A few seconds pass, and then, without taking her eyes off him, Rosalind puts her glass to her lips. One quick movement is all it takes to finish off her glass, and though he'll be able to feel her shudder, that's not such a bad thing right now.

The whiskey leaves a flush to her cheeks, and god, but that will go to her head soon, but that doesn't matter, not when she's acting a touch competitive.]


Go get us something. I'll be waiting.

[It's an order, and she raises an eyebrow, waiting to see if he'll obey it or not. Honestly, she isn't certain if she wants him to or not. Sometimes, what Rosalind wants more than anything is not to get what she wants.]
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ᴊᴀᴍɪᴇ "ᴍʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ" ғʀᴀsᴇʀ

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