2015-07-28 8:50:40 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

raisethelaw:

> Keep reading

He tries to look down at the offending item, but the collar keeps him from scrunching up his neck, so he settles for squinting blearily at the gunslinger instead. It’s dark enough that the shadows don’t stretch far, but not dark enough that he can’t see the warped scar tissue decorating her neck where the collar usually is. He’s seen it before, of course, but they don’t ever talk about each other’s scars. (He already knows how it got there; she knows he knows, but that doesn’t stop them from not talking about it.) It’s just a thing they never do. The putting it on him thing is new though, and he wonders what brought it on. The inside of it is soft around his abused throat, warmed by her body heat, and he swallows behind it.
“Are you givin’ me fash’n advice, now?”