Date: 2009-03-24 05:42 am (UTC)
hell_in_highheels: (intent)
Her scent does not waiver for a moment. If anything, it deepens and grows more complex. She takes his hand, and brings his fingertips to her throat, makes him touch the marks he left, feel the welts and bruises. She winces a little but there is a shiver in her skin too.

When he's done, and she tips her chin back down, she looks into his eyes, her scent one of acceptance, pride, and a fierce devotion.

She believes in him. That much is clear.

Her eyes are more green than grey when she speaks, and her tone is firm and direct. "You are what you are, Richard. And I'm not in love with what you are. I'm in love with who you are."
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River Song

November 2009

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