(they did say that. isn't it the best chance for them? wouldn't it be to sneak away and forget that they were supposed to be on camera for what would be something intimate? she could even take her away, by the hand into the elevator and allow the other woman to touch wherever she wished to most. her hands could even slide down those micro shorts she was forced into, perhaps even into that leotard. it's tight on her, thin, though that was the intention of their decision to force cellinia into it. it does the job too well of hugging her curves, the toned muscle of her body.
but she's trying not to think about it, she's failing miserably.
their noses brush, the wolf thinks about it and might know what she means. lappland was gone, she could only guess what happened and what it means. becoming a statue, being frozen somewhere and never found until some poor soul stumbles upon them. she's silent, but the question was what gets her attention. the thoughts shift when the wolf knows with some reluctance they'd have to part. that's fine, isn't it?
because their intentions might be less than innocent, alone, in that trailer with just them and nothing else.)
We can, I think we'll be alone.
(the paparazzi happen to be afraid to mess with her, beyond what they try doing to others. but she doesn't need to mention it, she doubts they're around. they shouldn't be when the wolf shifts to stand and help up red. being alone is better, before her mind starts to wander more. they're already bound to get dragged along to whatever set they wanted them at if they stayed around for too long.
better to hurry, even small privacy somewhere like an elevator was better than being on camera for what could happen. or what might not happen, she felt hurt by her departure perhaps, but she didn't want to think about what it means. not what it could have meant whenever lines were blurred enough ever since that day in march where cellinia found herself fighting the other woman. where they touched one another, where they decided against talking about how things felt so different. the resort is a terrible place for these feelings, but something about it couldn't be helped.)
We'll hurry up and get out of here, the elevator should still have some privacy until we get to our trailer. Should still be working, too.
no subject
but she's trying not to think about it, she's failing miserably.
their noses brush, the wolf thinks about it and might know what she means. lappland was gone, she could only guess what happened and what it means. becoming a statue, being frozen somewhere and never found until some poor soul stumbles upon them. she's silent, but the question was what gets her attention. the thoughts shift when the wolf knows with some reluctance they'd have to part. that's fine, isn't it?
because their intentions might be less than innocent, alone, in that trailer with just them and nothing else.)
We can, I think we'll be alone.
(the paparazzi happen to be afraid to mess with her, beyond what they try doing to others. but she doesn't need to mention it, she doubts they're around. they shouldn't be when the wolf shifts to stand and help up red. being alone is better, before her mind starts to wander more. they're already bound to get dragged along to whatever set they wanted them at if they stayed around for too long.
better to hurry, even small privacy somewhere like an elevator was better than being on camera for what could happen. or what might not happen, she felt hurt by her departure perhaps, but she didn't want to think about what it means. not what it could have meant whenever lines were blurred enough ever since that day in march where cellinia found herself fighting the other woman. where they touched one another, where they decided against talking about how things felt so different. the resort is a terrible place for these feelings, but something about it couldn't be helped.)
We'll hurry up and get out of here, the elevator should still have some privacy until we get to our trailer. Should still be working, too.