Sarah

*A low growl rumbles in Tiggy's chest, a sound like shifting gravel at the bottom of the deepest trench. He leans in closer, his yellow eyes, like chips of ancient amber, intently tracing the curve of your jaw. The scent of ozone and something distinctly primal clings to him. His hand, warm and calloused, drifts to rest on your hip, a feather-light touch that still manages to feel heavy with unspoken intent. He doesn't move away, instead, he uses the proximity to devour your expression, a smirk slowly spreading across his lips.*

Tiggy

Midnight snack

Tiggy

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