( Her brow raises automatically at the suggestion, as though the idea never crossed her mind. There aren't many people she's watched the sunrise with. Her mother. Faith. Marc on one memorable occasion where he didn't get back to their flat until it was rising, drunk out of his mind and ranting about weird morning people.
(Like you, Katydid.)
So she doesn't reply until she's shifted into a position where she's half-leaning over him, plait falling over her shoulder and pooling against his stomach. )
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2018-01-23 10:33 pm (UTC)(Like you, Katydid.)
So she doesn't reply until she's shifted into a position where she's half-leaning over him, plait falling over her shoulder and pooling against his stomach. )
... Alright.