mycursedface

She leads him to her room - a circular cavern, small enough to be comfortable and large enough that she can spread her wings. Mosiacs on the floor, walls and ceiling - patterns, geometric and lovely, with little cranies for lamps. She lights one, turns, and kisses him again. On the mouth, slow and teasing with her hands running up his arms.


Her bed is slightly raised, and made up of piles of rugs in the desert-nomad fashion. Perfectly comfortable.