once a refreshing snack , now turned into mouth play , 𝖆 𝖙𝖔𝖔𝖙𝖍 𝖕𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖔𝖓 𝖘𝖔𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖔𝖔𝖉 . it hasn’t been awfully quiet between them , contrary , they’ve been talking about everything they could think of was entertaining enough , steve just didn’t touch the ground with his feet and he wanted to seem he was bored but amused at the same time . newlin was listening to him all the time and when his dear dead lover thought about winning the chess, smarter - than - he - looks steve-o newlin placed both his legs on marble floor from the armchair, charming smile comes in like he’s a weather man ❝ speakin' of strategies . russell
❞ his hands come in on the board to move the last piece, southern accent gospels in sweet honeydew voice before standing up ❝ . . . check - mate ❞
watchful , even in content conversation , lingering metallic tang on stained tongue –––––––– he is still playing to win . finger toys at mouth ‘tween recounts of lived history & spun tales ; cascade of dressing gown over bent legs , a slight shimmer against warm firelight , shifting upon cushion with every careful move on board . 𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 '𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐓 , green of gaze is sharp in its recognition of younger’s smile , shock muted behind eyes as final piece is placed . color him impressed , unmoving from comfort . ❛ –––––––– that just beginner’s luck or have you been holdin’ out on me ? ❜