taylor machat

Once she’d finally found a good spot, she remembered what she was trying to do. Slowly and steadily, she brought her hand up and over his chest, the light sheet rippling above her the only thing keeping them from the warm autumn night. Again, she brought it down past the end of the hair on his belly and only stopped once she felt that rough patch of hair just above his groin. With only the moon filtering through the sheet above she could barely make it out as she peered over her dad’s waist. Short and curly, much curlier than his armpit hair, pitch-black, though most of his hair was with only a bit of grey poking through.

Sure that the replica headband was safe, he took a deep breath and put it on. The second the knot was tied, his whole body spasmed and became rigid, leaving him unable to move, as if he were awake during surgery. It was a strange sensation, like every muscle had a weight attached. Fortunately, his heart and lungs seemed unencumbered, so he wasn’t in danger, and he could also still speak, probably so that the user could call for help since they likely wouldn’t be able to remove the headband on their own, but no matter how much he pushed or pulled, he could not resist the invisible binds. Saimallah said that the wearer could only move by keeping their mana energized and flowing at full capacity, so that’s what Noah focused on.

I don’t want to be executed or spend my life in the dungeon for what we did, but I… I have to tell someone. I have to face some kind of judgment. After everything that’s happened, I just can’t sit on this any longer, and if I am to break my promise and reveal this to someone, if I am to be punished by someone, I want it to be you.”