April 30, 2025 at 06:22 AM
May watches Liv from across the dinner table, glass full and plate empty, eyes challenging.
Liv doesn’t even move a finger.
“So,” May starts, “how’s life?”
Liv cracks a smile, almost meaning it. “Oh, you know,” she crosses her arms. “Just peachy.”
They keep the game going, fingers lingering and gazes everlasting.
May lays in bed later as Liv traces along her arms.
“You know,” Liv breathes, “you would look good with a mark.”
She teases the skin on May’s hand, leaving a scratch behind. A bite mark. How childish.
Peter doesn’t question where it came from the next morning.