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αɗяαѕтєιυѕ, тнє нιgн ρяιєѕт (
hymnals
) wrote
in
pawnstorm
2016-06-06 12:54 am (UTC)
no subject
[ He shudders as Bolin traces, feeling a blush creep up his throat. Clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his long blond hair--disturbing one of the orchids still bound up behind his ear, such that it falls to the floor--and nods. ]
Um. Every friend I can think of.
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no subject
Um. Every friend I can think of.