[After three years, it is so easy to warm to their equilibrium in the language of a plant crawling eagerly towards sunlight: bickering and claws are about as fun as they are fine, but fasta vass, nothing ever quite hits in the tender little stitches of silence quite like the slow slithering of syncopatic rhythm. Push and pull. Give and take. Praise and price.
(But they do so love to banter.)]
hah!
when did you get so clever, anyway? I'm starting to feel as if the scrappy little fighter that I grew startlingly close to is somehow growing up far too fast.
[In other words:]
don't you dare take that backwater understudy's offer.
no subject
(But they do so love to banter.)]
hah!
when did you get so clever, anyway? I'm starting to feel as if the scrappy little fighter that I grew startlingly close to is somehow growing up far too fast.
[In other words:]
don't you dare take that backwater understudy's offer.