[ Fuck, she wants to bury herself in it. Press in to that cold empty nothingness and squirm. It’s the not-quite-human in her: the thing that lives in the cold abyss of the stars, that is used to such vastness and craves to make it hers, to lord in, to live and die in. The novelty of it in this one man-shaped thing entices her. ]
no subject
Cozy.
[ A drowsy smile, face flushed with daydreams. ]