Bruises & Distilleries {locked to chesstotem}

[thesecurity]

Comments

[thesecurity]

Whether they're good for you or not. [It's not a question, or a condemnation. Arthur scrapes teeth against her neck gently and slides his fingers over her sides.]

[chesstotem]

I prefer to know the ugly truth. I don't like being sheltered. [He still smells like booze, something she's not used to, though she's absolutely not complaining about the attention. Still, it's a little surreal. Her hand goes to a pocket, but she stops herself.] You sure you're all right?

[thesecurity]

[His hand covers hers over the pocket; despite that Arthur carries his totem on his all the time, he very rarely seeks it out.] There are a few bars in Paris where I'm blacklisted. [It is a truth, an offering.]

[chesstotem]

And maybe a few bars in other places? [She's not passing judgment, just trying to understand. She holds his hand, carefully running her fingers over his bruised knuckles.]