Octavia's sleep had finally been a dreamless one. At least as far as she could remember, and that was good enough for her. She'd spent the last several nights repeatedly waking up in terror, so it seemed like a win when that didn't happen.
And now it was morning, but she wasn't in a rush to leave the bed. Instead, she was running her fingertips feather-light over the tattoo on Duke's shoulder.
Tracing the butterflies.
[ooc: For that guy.]
And now it was morning, but she wasn't in a rush to leave the bed. Instead, she was running her fingertips feather-light over the tattoo on Duke's shoulder.
Tracing the butterflies.
[ooc: For that guy.]