The moonlight danced upon her skin as Poppy made her way towards the window that overlooked the edge of this London street, items to aid James clasped within her palms. Crossing her flat, Poppy patted the cushion set beside her on the couch, watching James move next to her. His presence, mutually intoxicating to her as hers had been to him, Poppy removed a bottle of vodka from her small liquor cabinet and a thin cloth.
"It may hurt…" she commented while sharing his wince while the alcohol and contact to the torn skin upon his knuckles. As the blood washed away with the liquor, James locked his eyes upon her. Despite the fact that her lingerie sat over her windowsill to dry and what appeared to be a diary laid open upon her bed, his interest remained solely upon her.
"Sorry…" she commen
