((RP tumblr for Repo! The Genetic Opera. Not Alexa, TZ, DS, or DLB.))
Emilie Autumn - Largo
(Source: disarmingandcharming)
No, I’m pretty sure you definitely absolutely did not.
Graverobber grinned, striding toward her, not pausing to think.
At the base of his skull scratched sinister phrases; spider’s legs, rat tails, sea anemones, sowing mistrust. Repo man’s daughter they hissed rightful heir to GeneCo, all grave robbers will be shot on sight.
He silenced them with a quick shake of his head, passing it off as shock at the sight of her. He saw her lips move slightly, and the doubt came back full force. Hooking into his gut and drawing him back, Run away run away, wolf in sheep’s clothes, they urged. His brows knit together, he stopped mid step, leaving it up to the girl to close the distance between them.
No. No, this was cowardice not caution. Cowards keep their skins far longer than knights in shining armor, get off your white horse and high tail it away from her.
But she was shaking, from the chill of night or of fright he couldn’t say. She was shaking and smiling, broader than he, sparks in her eyes and a bounce in her step.
Drop kick her.
He was happy to see her too, a beam of light dressed in black. It was almost daunting, to be in the presence of such blatant honesty. She looked good, bony, but hadn’t she always been? Still lurking through graveyards at night, not that he could judge. Still curious, still brave, still alive thank god for shitty press.
“Hey kid,” he breathed through his grin. Graverobber took another step forward, subconsciously spreading his arms a bit too wide to attempt to gloss over.
When it occurred to her what had come shooting out of her mouth, Shilo’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink, adding a singular flush of colour to her monochrome palette. She put her fingers to her lips much too late and caught nothing but a curt, nervous exhale. ”Oh,” she uttered, hardly loud enough to hear herself.
In retrospect, what she had meant to say was what are you doing here? or, maybe even just how are you? The chipping nail polish on her fingertips had suddenly become awfully interesting as the blush threatened to spread from her face to her whole body, right down to her toes. Still, suppose her brain had decided to wonder, out loud, if he had come back for her, if he missed her, if he thought about her as much as she tried not to about him… All things considered, it could have been worse.
Anyway, another little voice nagged at her, what good came from hiding the truth?
What was the worst that could happen? Would he laugh at her? Put her down, set her straight? …He hadn’t once, yet. Moreover, here he was, standing on what may as well have been her doorstep (it was, after all, the only one she dared to use), giving her the okay to - no, motioning for, welcoming, even, her to…
Shilo forced herself to unfreeze and shuffle closer. Only inches away from him, she tentatively ghosted her fingers over fur of his coat collar. Real. Her touch hadn’t caused him to disappear, as a ghost or a dream or even as someone who had second thoughts about befriending a silly, stupid teenage girl. So, “Hi,” she beamed up, timidly, at him. And her eyes stayed on him for guidance, but her arms slipped around his waist. ”I guess I kind of didn’t know if I’d see you again.”
(Source: keyboardsamurai)
My #spoonflower fabric swatches came back today and they are rather lovely, even if I do say so myself.
LOVE this
