It [ h u r t s ] every day —the absence of someone who was
oncethere.
⊰♔⊱ → His problem is sex deprivation, honestly. He hasn’t ‘gotten it’ in a while, and it’s effecting his mental state, surprisingly enough. “Well, I’m sorry then. Sorry that I’m not polite or physically fit—holy shit are those real?” He’s talking about her visible muscles cause that’s flipping insane. Harley is so jealous right now. And also dirty with cake.

“——-?” Following the others gaze, Lightning looks at her arms. What an odd question. “Well, yeah.” Being a soldier and warrior requires such strength; strength that shows in both muscles and actions.

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⊰♔⊱ → Another person, rejecting his baking. Sigh. “Suit yourself, lady,” he responds, in a tone not so far from rude. Stuffing a slice in his face angrily, he musters all of his concentration not to spit chocolate cake bits on her face and his disgustingly speaks and eats at the same time. So much for having that eternal ‘seductive air’ about him. “Ish nevah bee’ poishoned. Bu’ som’ peopluh arh caushious.”

What the hell is his problem?
Immediately, her attitude —- respectful and stoic —- now hardened; becoming cold. “Well, I’m not ‘cautious’. I’m just not a fan of sweets. And if you don’t mind, don’t speak when you’re eating. It’s rude.”

THE SKY IS THE LIMIT
S K Y P I R A T I N G S
”Take to the skies. It is but the limit in this world.
Aye, but then again what are limitations to the leading man?”
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⊰♔⊱ → “Here,” the whore speaks, arm extending to offer the stranger a piece of cake. He won’t charge kisses for it, since that wasn’t working quite as well as he thought it would. “It’s free, and not poisoned.”

The soldier raised a hand, “Ah —– No thank you.” It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the offer, she simply disliked sweets. “Why would it poisoned to begin with?”
LOVE (lŭv) n.
A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.