[Sometimes you grab a pretty girl's ankle thinking it's a root.
The way it feels beneath his palm, however, the way he can hear the muffled shriek from above, he lets it go almost immediately. Definitely not a root. And then hands join his arm, and below the tight black leather is a trunk of taut muscle straining to pull the rest of him from the cradle of the soil.
His long, pale hands and almond nails dig through on the other side, and with a second hand and arm, he emerges from the depths of the pliant ground. A beautiful and alabaster face, the severity of it softened by the soil-dusted lashes, and a head full of dark hair. At first, it looks like a woman, inhumanly pretty, but as the rest of him draws out and the dirt falls away, it's clear he has the broad chest and shoulders of a man.
Sitting up, he glances at her as if there is not a single thing wrong with being picked out of the dirt of the ground. It's fine.
In a surprisingly soft voice, he says,] Thank you.
ISAAAA
The way it feels beneath his palm, however, the way he can hear the muffled shriek from above, he lets it go almost immediately. Definitely not a root. And then hands join his arm, and below the tight black leather is a trunk of taut muscle straining to pull the rest of him from the cradle of the soil.
His long, pale hands and almond nails dig through on the other side, and with a second hand and arm, he emerges from the depths of the pliant ground. A beautiful and alabaster face, the severity of it softened by the soil-dusted lashes, and a head full of dark hair. At first, it looks like a woman, inhumanly pretty, but as the rest of him draws out and the dirt falls away, it's clear he has the broad chest and shoulders of a man.
Sitting up, he glances at her as if there is not a single thing wrong with being picked out of the dirt of the ground. It's fine.
In a surprisingly soft voice, he says,] Thank you.