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𝑹𝒂𝒚𝒏 𝑻𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 .‧ ₊˚✩
a literate && descriptive portrayal of an original fandomless character.
sacrificial lamb rescued by lucifer. resurrected siren. lures people in with his voice.
banter/SL's. mdni. 𝟤𝟣+.
ρҽɳɳҽԃ Ⴆყ #ҽɳყσ~
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taking in a slow breath, the moth would nod and relax a little.
" ( yeah ) . . . yeah. you're right. yikes I — get in my head . . . I think the whole . . . 'constantly hunted' thing kinda puts a damper on my mood. "
" mmh. "
it'd turn those crimsons down, picking at the nail polish he wore.
" like you 𖤠 "
Atty smiled, looking back up with a shaky gaze.
" sorry I . . feel like I need constant reminding. "
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”who cares about them? if they want to be dense, let them .”
shoulders lifted in a shrug, huffing; ”you got people in your life who love you exactly who you are, focus on them .”
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" yeah but ' myself ' is off-putting to a lotta people . . . "
it looked a little miserable at the thought, indeed staring up at Rayne like maybe he'd have some kind of answer to its little dilemma.
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”positive .”
he assured, thumb brushing their cheek before his arm would drop back to his sides, even nodding to further emphasize his words; ”you won’t scare me off by being … well, yourself .”
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Atty pulled a face, a scrunched up one, peering up through now messy strands with a soft huff and leaning away to try and fix it — ( afterall he was part bird, in a sense. )
" you sure 𖤠 sometimes I feel like my honesty is a little much a - and the uh . . . "
staring problem.
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”me? sick of you? don’t be ridiculous .”
a gentle tug brought it closer, enough for him to reach out a hand and ruffle soft tresses; ”could never get sick of my favorite guitarist, hm? besides, it’s refreshing that you’re always so honest .”
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huffing out a pathetic squeak, it'd take his hand.
" yeah b - but you probably get sick of it . . . and . . I know I gotta stop voicing my thoughts aloud. "