the last thing Leona wants is to be like this— so uncontrollable, so hungry— in the face of a woman.
her scent is overwhelming, but he can still assess what kind of woman she is in a look, in the tone of her voice, in the color that scent paints in Leona's mind.]
—Sorry,
[he manages, trying to curl on himself a little more, shaking his head.]
I didn't— realize.
[realize what? that it was a woman who'd approached him, of course, but articulating that, and letting more of her scent into his mouth feels... dangerous.]
no subject
fuck.
the last thing Leona wants is to be like this— so uncontrollable, so hungry— in the face of a woman.
her scent is overwhelming, but he can still assess what kind of woman she is in a look, in the tone of her voice, in the color that scent paints in Leona's mind.]
—Sorry,
[he manages, trying to curl on himself a little more, shaking his head.]
I didn't— realize.
[realize what? that it was a woman who'd approached him, of course, but articulating that, and letting more of her scent into his mouth feels... dangerous.]