Yes, sir. [He chuckles low, deeply pleased as Romance glares, pulls a feather from his mussed hair, and still invites Abby to shower. It's like he's god's gift to men.
Abby moves to stand, rolling his shoulders, cracking his joints with a pleased grunt. His hair is more of an indigo when he's relaxed this way, talons sharp, fangs slightly more animal. He does a series of stretches, feeling over certain muscle groups, as if checking for progress after a workout--and of course he's smug about that too.
The moment Romance is up, Abby is slinging a possessive arm around his waist, that demonic purring still rumbling in the back of his throat and down through his chest.]
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Abby moves to stand, rolling his shoulders, cracking his joints with a pleased grunt. His hair is more of an indigo when he's relaxed this way, talons sharp, fangs slightly more animal. He does a series of stretches, feeling over certain muscle groups, as if checking for progress after a workout--and of course he's smug about that too.
The moment Romance is up, Abby is slinging a possessive arm around his waist, that demonic purring still rumbling in the back of his throat and down through his chest.]