[Zoro can't help but track Vrenille's movements, his gaze tracing the confident lines of his body. Even blindfolded, Vrenille exudes an unshakeable certainty. Other men in Zoro's position might feel overwhelmed, his own experience dwarfed by Vrenille's. But a familiar calm washes over him as he mirrors the other man's posture, settling deeper into the cot.
His gaze snags on the dip of Vrenille's navel. A low hum leaves his throat, a sound that hangs in the air, open to interpretation. This may be a game, a dance matched to Vrenille's rhythm, but for now, Zoro lets himself be led.
no subject
His gaze snags on the dip of Vrenille's navel. A low hum leaves his throat, a sound that hangs in the air, open to interpretation. This may be a game, a dance matched to Vrenille's rhythm, but for now, Zoro lets himself be led.
The leash, after all, isn't one-sided.
Words unhurried, he drawls:]
... Alright, then. Show me what you've got.
I'm in your hands.