They were puzzle pieces, Poe thought, threading a dark, curvy leg over and around a long, lithe pale limb of her companion. Their was a flow to their bodies that fit too perfectly to be coincidence despite their dramatically different figures, and it was difficult to resist exploring just how many angles they could click into. For now, she was happy to lean into Luz’s slender torso, fiddle with her long fingers with one hand, and sip and pass around a bottle of red wine with the other. Their bodies created a warmth that Poe had become too conscious of lacking lately—but now was the blissful product of delayed gratification, cleaning away any complaints she might have had in the matter.
“I can’t imagine getting around Clouded Tears for the first stretch of time,” she chatted with the silly intoxication of wine and warmth and body. “You must get lost in there sometimes. You are an utter liar if you tell me differently,” she said surely, turning her head to look straight into familiar violet eyes, playful and prodding for a rebuttal. But before Luz could answer, before even a heartbeat could pass, she asked her a question, one to add to the dozens she had already tugged at the older lady since refinding each other once more. “Do you like it there? I mean, not just the land, but the pack?” Her green gaze narrowed, examined, relaxed and lingered.
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