( mick rory, with a shitload of food from the red-stuff table? scandals abound in the city of cadelle. he is, however, quite a sight for sore eyes (as though she hasn't occasionally snuck, yet again, into the Literal California King Bed that her favorite pair of criminals stole during the earthquake), and his sara lance impression is pretty good. sara's mouth turns up into one of her practically trademarked Sara Lance Smirks™ at him as she pops said minty mini cupcake into her mouth.
wait for it. wait for it.
when she inhales, it's icy cool, all the way down her throat, and goosebumps course down bare arms. hmm. okay. that's interesting. ) Pretty cool. ( cool. good. grool?
it's enough to make sara eat another, easy enough since they're bite-sized. except she has to be a dick about it and lick the tiny swirl of icing off of it first, all slow and tantalizing and shit, before she stuffs the chocolate cake into her mouth, nonchalant as ever. ) I'd tell you to take a taste, but I don't know how well this would go with that.
listen it's not a different area code he's just standing at a different fucking table
wait for it. wait for it.
when she inhales, it's icy cool, all the way down her throat, and goosebumps course down bare arms. hmm. okay. that's interesting. ) Pretty cool. ( cool. good. grool?
it's enough to make sara eat another, easy enough since they're bite-sized. except she has to be a dick about it and lick the tiny swirl of icing off of it first, all slow and tantalizing and shit, before she stuffs the chocolate cake into her mouth, nonchalant as ever. ) I'd tell you to take a taste, but I don't know how well this would go with that.